Promptober 2018
by Heavenli24
Summary: A collection of daily Veronica Mars prompt fics, originally posted on AO3 on each day in October for Promptober 2018.
1. Flashlight

**Note:** For anyone wondering why Slides of Cosy Lives hasn't been updated in a while, this fic is the main reason why - I spent all of October writing and posting Promptober (and now I'm having a bit of writer's block with Slides).

* * *

 **Flashlight**

Veronica slid the room key into the door and opened it carefully. The suite was dark, save for the corner lamp that always seemed to be on. She crossed the room swiftly, feeling just the teeniest bit guilty for being here, for intruding on his space without asking.

 _He never asked for your key back_ , she reminded herself, as if it that made it better. _It's not B &E if you have a key. Besides, you're just gonna grab what you came for and leave. A quick in-and-out. No one has to know._

She slipped into Logan's dark room and made a beeline for the nightstand on the right side of the bed. Starting with the bottom drawer, she gently eased it open and slid her hand in, feeling around. Nothing. Carefully pushing it closed, she tried the next one up. Still nothing. She gave an internal sigh as she pulled open the top drawer and hesitantly reached in, not sure she wanted to know what was inside.

Back when they were together, Logan had actually kept his top drawer surprisingly scandal-free. Other than a box of condoms, it hadn't held anything particularly inappropriate. Of course, that may have all changed in the time since they'd broken up.

 _It has to be here. It_ has _to_.

"Hmm, I bet you're wishing you had a flashlight right about now."

Veronica froze, her eyes wide and her heart pounding as she turned her head towards the bed to see the outline of Logan's head illuminated in the dim moonlight.

"Fuck." The curse word fell from her lips involuntarily as Logan reached across to turn on the bedside lamp.

"What are you doing here, Veronica?" he asked wearily, propping himself up on one elbow as he blinked sleepily, his hair mussed

"I, uh…" Veronica glanced down at her hand in the drawer, before quickly pulling it out and slamming it closed. "I didn't think you were here."

He gave her a perplexed look. "That doesn't answer my question."

"I, um, I was looking for something that I left here."

He cocked an incredulous eyebrow. "And instead of just asking me for it, you decided to break into my hotel room when you thought I wouldn't be in?"

"I didn't break in," she muttered feebly, still kneeling on the floor. "You gave me a key."

"Yeah, when we were dating." Logan didn't look impressed. "Which you failed to return after we broke up."

Veronica looked down, guilt surging through her. "Sorry. You're right, I should have asked. It's just… it's kind of embarrassing, and I thought it would be easier if I just got it myself."

That made Logan straighten, as he frowned suspiciously. "What exactly _are_ you looking for, Veronica?"

She felt her cheeks flush with heat and she kept her head down as she mumbled it under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." His tone held a hint of amusement, which told her he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Oh, don't make me say it, Logan." She sighed, finally looking up at him.

A slow, teasing smile spread across his face. "Say what?"

"Never mind." She shook her head and rose to her feet, just wanting to get out of there. "I'm just gonna go."

"Okay, fine." A smirk played on his face. "But if you're not gonna take it now, I guess I'll just drop it by your dad's house in the morning.

Veronica's eyes widened as she flushed with embarrassment. "You wouldn't!"

His smirk turned into a grin. "Try me."

She closed her eyes for a moment before holding out her hand. "Okay. Give it here."

Logan raised an eyebrow, before leaning over to the left side of the bed and opening the top drawer of the other nightstand. He pulled out the exact object she'd been looking for and placed it in her hand. Her fingers clamped around it immediately and she swiftly shoved it into her bag.

"Thank you."

Turning quickly to avoid his penetrating gaze, she strode toward the door and pulled it open. As she was about to step through it, his voice floated across the room.

"Any particular reason you needed it tonight?" he aked airily. "I mean, you do seem very tense; guess you must be in need of a release."

"Fuck you, Logan," she muttered, mortification flooding through her.

 _So much for a quick in-and-out._ Her eyes widened as she realised what she'd just thought. _God, that was a poor choice of phrasing._

"I'd be happy to help you out," he added. "It'd be just like old times. You, me and your handy little helper there."

Veronica couldn't help it; she looked back at him, her body thrumming with sudden arousal. How did he always manage to do that to her? Even when they were enemies, she couldn't seem to stop her body from reacting to him.

She shook her head. "I have to go. Goodbye, Logan."

Without turning back, she stalked out of the hotel suite, not stopping until she was safely inside the elevator. She sank back against the mirrored wall and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

 _Fuck. That could not have gone any worse._

Not only had it been an unexpected and extremely awkward run-in with Logan, now she was feeling so worked up, she was actually tempted to take him up on his offer… which would be a supremely stupid thing to do. She'd only gone to his room tonight because she'd heard he would be at a frat party… and because she'd wanted to save both of them the embarrassment of actually having to ask for it back. Except it had completely backfired and she had just made things ten times worse.

 _Story of my life._


	2. Closed

**Closed**

Logan Echolls stepped inside the small, dingy office building, glancing up at the small bell ringing above the door, which announced his presence. Located in the rundown part of town, this wasn't the kind of place he usually frequented—its yellow and red stained glass windows only adding to the seedy atmosphere of the location—but desperate times called for desperate measures, and right now this was his only option.

"Sorry, we're closed," called out a female voice from inside the office in the corner.

Before Logan could apologise the owner of said voice appeared in the office doorway, and his jaw snapped shut at the sight of her. She was blonde, petite, maybe mid-twenties… and not what he was expecting in the slightest.

"I'm sorry, the sign on the door says you're open until six," he said quickly. "I was looking for Keith Mars."

The girl—woman—stepped into the room, her mouth falling open in a surprised 'oh' as she took him in. "You're Logan Echolls."

"I am."

He fidgeted under her gaze, shoving his hands into his pockets. He might be the son of Hollywood actors, and a well-known director in his own right, but he still wasn't comfortable with all the attention that brought. If he had things his way, he would just stay in the shadows and never have to deal with the press.

She stared at him for a moment longer before shaking her head, as if remembering where she was, and holding out her hand to him. "I'm Veronica Mars. Keith's daughter. We're partners."

Logan shook her hand, giving her a smile. "Nice to meet you, Veronica."

"How can we help you?"

"Well, I, uh, I wanted to hire your father to investigate my wife," he said awkwardly, hoping he was making the right decision by going through Mars Investigations and not hiring one of the expensive firms usually used by his fellow peers in the industry. "I have reason to believe she's having an affair."

Veronica's eyes widened in surprise, looking a little star-struck. "You want us to investigate Lilly Kane? Movie-star, billionaire heiress Lilly Kane?"

Logan nodded. "I do. Something's been off with her lately—she's been secretive and evasive—and I need to know what's going on."

"Okay, then." Veronica recovered quickly, and gestured towards the office she just came out of. "Let me take down some details and we'll see what we can do."

Logan followed her into the office and watched as she slid into the chair behind the desk, before taking a seat himself.

"Right then, Mr. Echolls," she says, reaching for a pen. "What can you tell me about Lilly Kane?"


	3. Demonstration

**Demonstration**

"Uh, F.Y.I.," Logan starts, glancing towards the room he just vacated as he leans against the wall and bends down to tie his shoelaces. "If the cuddling is the best part, he didn't do it right."

The words ring in Veronica's ears as she stares at him, frozen to the spot. She feels humiliated, embarrassed, angry… and worst of all, a little turned on. Logan's just come out of the same room which was the source of loud, very satisfying-sounding sex just thirty minutes ago. It was bad enough that she and Duncan had to listen to strangers doing it… but now to realise it was _Logan_ who had elicited those moans of pleasure and screams of satisfaction… God, it was unbearable.

She knew first-hand what that mouth and those hands could do, and while they hadn't ever gone all the way, if his foreplay techniques were any indication, not to mention the sounds coming from room 1147 earlier, she could imagine those _other_ parts of him were just as talented.

She doesn't know what to say… can't say anything, actually. Her heart pounds frantically in her chest as she continues to stare at him. He looks down at the shoe he's just finished tying, then back up to her, as he straightens. He shoots a hard look towards the door to Duncan's suite as he starts to move past her.

For a moment, she thinks the torture is over, but then he stops beside her and leans in close to her ear, his torso brushing against her arm.

"If you'd like a demonstration of how it _should_ be done," he murmurs, voice filled with suggestion, "you know where to find me."

Veronica swallows harshly, but she refuses to let him see her react.

He smirks, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper, "I'll make you come so hard, you won't be able to stop yourself from screaming my name."

 _Fuck you, Logan._ She closes her eyes as he walks away. _Just fuck you._


	4. Cashmere

**Cashmere**

Logan leaves the bathroom and comes to a stop in Veronica's bedroom doorway. The room is in disarray, with clothes scattered across the bed and the floor, as Veronica rummages around in her chest of drawers. He smiles, leaning against the door jamb to watch her. She's dressed in one of his Navy t-shirts, which is way too big for her, and her hair is all dishevelled. Logan's smile curls into smirk as he recalls the exact reason for that dishevelment.

"Problem, ma'am?" he asks when she gives a huff of frustration.

"I'm going undercover for a job this morning," she says, her back still to him, "and I can't find the outfit I need."

She straightens up, her hands coming to her hips, and turns to face him. Logan's lips twitch when he notices her gaze flicker to his bare chest and he folds his arms, deliberately pushing his knuckles under his biceps as she stares at him.

"Can I help?" he offers.

"Could you check the closet for me?" she asks, finally tearing her gaze from his arms and focusing back on the task at hand. "I've already looked, but maybe I missed it."

'Sure." He pushes off the door jamb and walks over to the small closet. "What am I looking for?"

"A lilac, silk blouse with long sleeves."

"Okay."

He steps inside and starts thumbing through Veronica's clothes, giving a smile at the variety contained within her wardrobe. There are suits next to party dresses next to casual shirts next to leather jackets. After flicking through all the hangers with no luck, he glances around the closet one more time. Just as he's about to tell her he can't find it, something on the back shelf catches his eye. He reaches for it and pulls it down, frowning when he realises he actually has two items of clothing in his hand. One of them appears to be the lilac blouse in question, but the other…

Logan swallows as he runs his fingers over the pearl decoration in the corner of the black cashmere sweater. The very, very familiar cashmere sweater.

"Hey, Veronica?" He steps back into the room.

"Oh, you found it." Her eyes light up as she takes the blouse from him. "Thanks."

"Where did you get this sweater?" he asks, wincing as his voice cracks slightly.

She blinks at him in confusion for a second, as she stares at the material in his hand. "Oh. Wow, I haven't seen that in years. Uh, Lilly lent it to me once, and well, I never got the chance to give it back to her."

"Lilly gave it to you?" Logan frowns, trying to make sense of it.

"Yeah. Why?" She moves in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure it was hers to give." He shakes his head. "Veronica, this was my mother's sweater."

"It was?" Veronica looks to him in surprise, her eyes wide as she takes it from him, inspecting it, as if it held all the answers. "But why did Lilly have it?"

"No idea." Logan shrugs, puzzled, for a moment, before he straightens in realisation. "Wait a minute… when we were dating, my mom would sometimes let Lilly try on her clothes. They'd get dolled up and have these fashion shows where they made me watch them parade around the living room. I think Mom liked having someone to share that stuff with, you know, since she wasn't close to Trina."

"Wow. Talk about a blast from the past." Veronica hands the sweater back to him, then places her hand on his arm. "You okay? You look… I don't know; shaken?"

"It's just…after the fire… I thought everything of hers was gone," he says softly. "And to realise you've had her sweater for all these years… it's just…"

"Yeah," Veronica says in understanding, a gentle smile on her face.

Logan clears his throat, blinking away the melancholy that seems to have settled over him. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring the mood down."

Veronica smiles. "You didn't."

"Here," he says, holding the sweater back out to her.

She shakes her head, pushing his hand back into his chest. "Keep it. It's yours."

Logan looks down at the sweater again, running his fingers over the soft material, an image of his mother wearing it, a smile lighting up her face as she danced around the living room, flashing through his mind.

 _I miss you, Mom._


	5. Harvest

**Harvest**

"Where is it… where is it?" Logan mutters to himself as he opens various cupboard doors in the kitchen.

He's looking for the Italian seasoning, which usually lives in the cupboard above the cooker, but it's nowhere to be seen today. Then again, Veronica has been arranging and rearranging the kitchen for days now, so it's no wonder nothing is where it's supposed to be any more.

He pulls open the corner cupboard under the counter and rummages around for a moment, before sighing and pulling out the moving shelf. He frowns to himself when he spots the unfamiliar box in the back. Reaching in, he lifts it out of the cupboard and places it on the counter, before opening the flaps and peering inside.

"Huh," he says, confused, before calling out in the direction of the bedroom. "Uh, Veronica?"

It's silent for a moment, before he hears a mutter curse and then the sound of padded footsteps on the carpet as his heavily pregnant wife enters the kitchen.

"What's going on?"

Logan points to the box. "What's this?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Um… a box?"

"I mean this." He holds up three of the items inside.

"What do you mean? They're chocolate bars."

"I can see that," he deadpans. "But why do you have, like, forty of them?

She shrugs, looking away. "No reason."

"Veronica…?"

"Okay, fine," she relents. "They're being discontinued, and since I've had to restrict my chocolate intake for the last eight months—"

"You figured you'd harvest them?" His lips twitch with amusement.

"No." She shakes her head quickly. "I'm not _harvesting_ them."

"Well, what else would you call it?"

"I'm just… stocking up, just in case."

"Isn't that pretty much what harvesting is?"

"No." She moves across the room and grabs them from his hand, shoving them back into the box.

Her face flushes pink, which only makes Logan's smirk stretch into a grin. "Are you embarrassed?"

"Of course not." She huffs.

Logan reaches out and affectionately bops her nose. "Whatever you say, my dear."


	6. Exposed

**Exposed**

Logan's fingers brushed her cheek, his touch so gentle she wasn't entirely sure she'd felt it, before they slid to her jaw, brushing back her hair and tucking it behind her ear in a gesture he seemed to be very fond of.

His eyes bore into hers and her heart skipped a beat at the intensity in them. With a tender smile, he leaned in close, his eyes remaining open and looking into hers as he pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were warm and soft and his kiss was filled with affection, and it caused her heart to start pounding… except not in a good way.

Logan pulled back, still maintaining eye-contact, and Veronica had to fight the urge to look away, to duck her head. His entire attention was focused on her, and it felt as if he was staring into her soul, seeing all the parts of her she tried to keep hidden.

He inhaled, then let out the breath slowly, before his lips parted and he started to speak.

"I love you, Veronica."

She froze, her breathing becoming shallow as she felt the panic begin to rise in her chest. It was too much. She couldn't deal with this. It made her feel raw and exposed, and she hated it.

She swallowed, then licked her lips, trying to form words… any words.

 _Come on, Veronica, say something._

"I—" she started, then stopped, her voice catching.

Logan shook his head, a hint of a wry smile playing on his lips. "It's okay, you don't have to say it back. Just wanted you to know."

"I—" She tried again. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

He gave a small nod of reassurance, but as he leaned in for another kiss, she could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

 _I really am sorry, Logan_ , she thought as his mouth covered hers again and her eyes slid closed. _I wish I could say it back. Maybe someday I'll be able to… or maybe there's something inherently wrong with me and I'm simply incapable of loving someone that way.  
_

As if sensing her internal turmoil, Logan broke the kiss and looked at her with concern. "Everything okay?"

She pasted a smile on her face as she nodded, slipping her hand around his neck.

"Everything's fine," she murmured as she pulled him back in for another kiss.


	7. Throw Pillow

**Throw Pillow**

"How about this one?"

Logan turned to look at the cushion Veronica was holding up, tilting his head as he tried to form some kind of opinion about it.

She frowned, obviously taking his absence of reaction to be a lack of interest. "You don't like it?"

"It's okay…" he started.

"But?" she prompted.

"But, I don't know, Veronica." He threw his hands up in annoyance. "It's a cushion."

"A _throw pillow_ ," she corrected.

"Okay, it's a throw pillow." He shrugged. "So what?"

"Ugh." She put it down on the show couch with a shake of her head. "You're no help."

She moved to another couch a few feet away, and Logan followed her.

"What do you want me to say, Veronica?" he said to her back. "As long as it's comfortable, I'll be happy with it."

"In that case, why are you even here?" she muttered. "I could have just done this by myself."

"You tell me," he responded hotly. "I was perfectly content hanging out with Dick at the beach, but you made me come."

"Yeah, because I thought we were supposed to be doing this together," she shot back. "You know, the whole: you, me, adult relationship, moving in together thing. But if you can't even make an effort, then I don't know why we're bothering."

She gave a heavy sigh, then turned on her heel and began stalking away, leaving Logan feeling contrite and just a little guilty.

"Hey." He caught up with her, catching her elbow. "I'm sorry, okay? It's not that I don't care about you or our relationship, it's just… it's a fucking throw pillow, Veronica. Is it really that important?"

"Yes, it is," she said, her voice losing its edge now. "Because this is us, starting our life together, and we should both be equally involved in it. It's gonna be your furniture, too, and I want both of us to be happy with what we buy."

Logan nodded in acceptance. "Yeah, okay. I want that, too."

She smiled. "Look, I get that you don't really care that much about throw pillows, but I just wanted us to choose this stuff together."

"I'm sorry. Let's try again," he said, before stepping back and gesturing with his hands. "Show me the next one. Come on, hit me."

A grin broke out on her face. "Okay."

She reached for the nearest cushion and flung it at him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in surprise as it smacked him in the face. "Thanks a lot!"

"Sorry." She gave a soft giggle. "But you did ask for it. And you were having trouble deciding the normal way, so I figured we could test them out the way we used to."

He smiled, remembering how, back when they were pre-teens, not long after they first met, their regular movie nights over at the Kane's would regularly turn into pillow fights with Celeste's designer throw pillows.

Logan cocked an eyebrow as he grabbed another cushion, testing its weight in his hands. "Is that right?"

"Uh huh." She nodded, even as she began backing away at the gleam in his eye.

He began advancing on her, and she gave a small shriek, darting out of the way before he could smack her with the cushion. He was too fast for her though, and he grabbed her around the waist as he smushed it against the side of her face.

"I'll get you for that," she warned, though her tone was filled with amusement.

Twisting out of his arms, she reached for another pillow, but just as she lifted it above her head, Logan caught the eye of the stern-looking store manager, who was shaking his head and making his way toward them.

"We'd better get out of here," he said quickly, grabbing the cushion from her and placing it back on the couch. "We're about to get in trouble."

He took her hand and practically dragged her out of the store, even as she protested, "But we didn't buy our new couch yet."

"We'll get one somewhere else."

* * *

 **Notes:** This scene was partly inspired by an episode of the BBC sitcom, Coupling (season 2, episode 3), which involved Steve being unable to form any kind of opinion on sofa fabrics and cushions.


	8. Patient

**Patient**

"You okay, sweetie?"

Veronica drops a kiss to the side of her daughter's head, her hand stroking her hair as she moves past her and pulls open the fridge.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's wrong?" Veronica pulls out a carton of milk and turns back around to face her little girl.

Deep brown eyes lift to meet hers. "When's Dad gonna be home?"

"Soon, sweetheart." Veronica smiles sympathetically. "He'll be here soon."

"Will he?" The ten-year-old raises an eyebrow, giving her a look that's pure Logan. "He's already three days late and it's my birthday Saturday. He said he'd be home for it."

"I know, honey." She steps forward, sliding an arm around her, hugging her close. "He's doing his best, I promise. He'll get here. You just have to be patient for a little while longer."

Her daughter nods, looking glum. "This sucks."

"It totally does," Veronica agrees wholeheartedly. "You know how much your Dad loves you, and if he could be here right now, he would be."

"Yeah, I know."

"Listen." Veronica lets go of her and leans forward, resting her elbows on the island countertop. "When he gets home, while he's on leave, we're gonna spend a ton of family time together, okay? Just you and me and Dad. Whatever you want to do."

"Really?" That earns her a wide smile, her daughter's eyes lighting up. "Can we go to the water park?"

"Uh huh."

"Disneyland?"

"If you like." Veronica gives her a warm smile.

"Can we go on vacation?" she tries next. "Dad said he would take me to New York."

"Oh, he did, huh?" Veronica cocks an eyebrow. This is news to her. "Well, we'll have to see."

 _Dear God, what_ have _you been agreeing to, Logan?_

"So," she says, standing up. "What'll it be for breakfast?"

"French toast and strawberries?" Pleading eyes look up at her, expression perfectly matching her father's when he wants something, and there's no way Veronica can refuse.

"Okay." She nods with a smile. "Coming right up."

She fixes two portions of French toast, and she's just sliding onto the free stool at the island when the FaceTime app on her phone dings.

"Daddy!" Her daughter gets to it first, grinning widely when Logan's face fills the screen. "Where are you? Are you nearly home?"

"Hey, baby girl," Logan's smooth tone comes through the speakers. "How are you doing? Is Mom there, too?"

"Right here," says Veronica, swallowing a mouthful of strawberries as she leans across so he can see her. "How're you doing?"

"Missing you guys," he says. "I don't have long, but just wanted to let you know that we're on our way back. I can't say exactly when we'll dock, but I should be back by Saturday."

"Yay!" Their daughter claps her hands together excitedly. "You'll be home for my birthday."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He smiles affectionately. "Listen, can I talk to Mom for a minute?"

"Okay," the ten-year-old chirps. "See you soon, Dad."

"Finish your breakfast and then go get ready for school, okay?" Veronica instructs as she takes the phone from her and heads out of the room.

When she's safely in her bedroom, she turns to the phone again, smiling down at Logan. "What's up?"

"Nothin'." he smirks. "Just wanted to tell you I love you, and that I'm dying to get you naked and show you exactly how much I've missed you."

Veronica's stomach clenches in response to the mental images his words conjure and she licks her lips. "I can't wait."

"Me either." He gives a salacious wink.

"Do you have a bit of time to talk?" she asks.

"A couple more minutes."

"Good. Because what's this I hear about you promising our daughter a trip to New York?"

He winces, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck as he looks at her sheepishly. "Ah, yeah… well…I was gonna tell you, but—"

"Hey, I'm not mad, okay?" she interrupts quickly. "I think it's a great idea."

Logan looks visibly surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah." She smiles. "We can take in the sights, see a show... I can show her my old stomping ground at Columbia. We'll make a whole trip of it."

"Wow." Logan blinks. "I thought for sure I'd have to talk you round."

Veronica rolls her eyes. "I'm not some kind of fun-sucking misery, Lo."

He smirks, then gives a throaty chuckle, which causes her to frown. "What?"

"I seem to remember there being plenty of _fun_ when you're sucking," he quips mischievously.

"Oh, you're hilarious." She tries for deadpan, but she can't help the smirk that tugs at her lips.

"I thought so."

He grins and longing hits her right in the chest.

"Get home soon, okay?" she says seriously. "And be safe."

"Will do," he promises. "And you, too. Both of you."

She swallows down her emotions as she says, "Love you."

"Me, too, Bobcat."

She smiles at the old nickname. "Come back to me. To us."

Flashing a grin, he replies, "Always."

* * *

 **Note:** This story is standalone and not specifically related to any of my other fics :).


	9. Shadow

Okay, we're going a little darker with this one...

* * *

 **Shadow**

It took a surprising amount of effort for Logan to open his eyes, and when he finally did pry them open, the world around him was blurry. His head was pounding, his jaw felt like he'd got ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and as he tried to prop himself up on his elbows, his stomach rolled and a wave of nausea rose up in his throat.

"Fuck." He dropped back down onto the mattress, covering his eyes with one hand as the other hand clutched his stomach.

Rubbing his eyes, he tried opening them again. This time, his surroundings came into focus and he frowned. The bed he was lying in, while comfortable, was completely unfamiliar... as was the room around him.

 _Where the hell am I?_

"Mornin', sleepyhead," came a voice from his left and his head whipped in the direction of it.

In the doorway to what he could only assume was an en-suite bathroom, stood a tall, slim brunette. She was clad in a tank top and boy shorts and was holding a toothbrush in one hand.

"What...?" he started slowly, his mind still fuzzy. "Where—I mean, who…?"

She gave a shrug, like she was expecting his confusion. "I'm guessing, from that reaction, you don't remember last night?"

He frowned, bringing a hand to his throbbing jaw. "What happened?"

"Ah, well, we met in a bar downtown," she explains. "After a few drinks, we came back to my place… but not before you decided to defend my honour when some big, burly drunk tried to take advantage of me."

"Aw, fuck," he mumbled again. "Uh, did we…?"

The girl smirked. "Uh, huh. You were very much intent on showing me just how a lady _should_ be treated."

"Right." He closed his eyes. "Great."

"Oh, you _were,"_ she replied, a slow smile spreading across her face.

He could barely remember any of it. Of course, that might have something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed… not to mention the drugs.

Nausea rose up again and he felt the tell-tale prick of tears in his eyes. How pathetic was it that his first thought these days, after doing something stupid and reckless, was always:

 _What would Veronica think?_

He was getting out of control, he knew that. He just didn't know what to do about it; didn't know how to rein it in, how to function, how to cope without the constant chemical stimulation.

Dick kept telling him he was becoming a shadow of his former self, and though he'd been dismissing the claim as ridiculous, he knew his friend was right.

Then again, what did it matter?

He was just a shadow now.

No one cared about shadows.


	10. I Almost Forgot

Okay, back to something lighter now. This one is Post-TDTL :).

* * *

 **I Almost Forgot**

Freshly showered and dressed after his morning run, Logan settles back on Veronica's grey-and-white-striped couch and turns on the TV. He's in the middle of flicking through the channels when two arms slide down over his shoulders, palms flattening over his chest.

"Morning, handsome," Veronica murmurs close to his ear as she kisses his cheek.

"Morning, beautiful." Logan smiles indulgently as he turns his head for a proper kiss, his hand coming up to cup her cheek as his mouth covers hers.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asks playfully when they part.

"Waiting for you."

She rounds the couch and sits in his lap, straddling his hips. She's clad in the t-shirt he was wearing yesterday… and nothing else. Her hands come to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his short hair, and he shudders at the touch.

"Is that so?" She smiles. "And you couldn't do that in bed? You know, where it's warm, and we were naked…"

"I needed to run." He shrugs. "Can't slack off just because I'm on leave."

She pouts adorably. "But you could have come back to bed after."

"After I'd showered and dressed?" he responds lightly. "That would have defeated the object, surely?"

She leans in, kisses his lips. "Not if you hadn't gotten dressed."

He grins. "But then I would have ended up having to shower _again_."

"Yeah, and?" she counters with a grin.

Her hands slide down over his torso, fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. She kisses him again as she reaches for his belt, unbuckling it quickly and then tugging his zipper down. Logan's eyes snap open when she slips her hand into his boxers, her fingers curling around him, and he clamps his hand around her wrist.

"Veronica, we can't," he says, as she strokes him. He sucks in a sharp breath. "Your dad's gonna be here in like, ten minutes."

She bites her lip coyly. "Well, then, we have ten minutes."

"I'm serious," he says, trying to school his features into a no-nonsense expression.

"So am I," she responds. "Logan, I've just spent six months without you. Just let me have this, okay?"

Logan feels his resolve rapidly slipping away as she runs her thumb over his tip, and he releases his hold on her wrist. "Okay, fine. But we need to be quick."

"The quickest," she agrees, freeing him from his boxers.

She reaches for something balanced on the top of the couch and Logan blinks in surprise when he realises it's a condom. "I see you were planning this."

She grins. "Certainly was."

Ripping open the packet, she rolls it onto him, then rises up onto her knees. She bites her lip as she teases her clit with his tip and then sinks down onto him. Logan's head falls back against the couch as he luxuriates in the feel of her surrounding him, tight and hot and wet, and suddenly he doesn't care anymore that they don't have time for this.

His hands come to her hips, guiding her movements as he rocks up into her. Her hands wind around his neck again, holding him close as she rests her forehead against his. Her eyes are closed, but he keeps his open, watching the pleasure flit across her face as she gets closer and closer to climax. His breathing is harsh, almost too loud in the quiet of the room, but then she's making the same gasping sounds and it only turns him on even more.

He feels himself rapidly hurtling towards the edge, but she's not there yet, so he slips his hand beneath her shirt and begins to stroke her clit with his thumb. Within moments, she's trembling in his arms, her inner muscles pulsating around him, her gasps turning to soft moans as she comes. His hips move faster beneath hers, searching for the same much-needed release. It doesn't take more than a few seconds before he's finally tipping over, Veronica's tight heat clenching around him, his head spinning with the intensity of it all.

Her forehead still pressed against his, Veronica's eyes open and their gazes lock. She smiles, cheeks flushed and eyes shining, and the affection in her expression makes his chest tighten with emotion. She kisses him, her mouth hot on his, then pulls back, looking fully sated.

"That's better," she murmurs. "Got to start the morning off right."

Logan grins. "Yep."

He's about to tug her close for another kiss, when the sound of a car pulling up outside the apartment building draws his attention and his eyes widen.

"Shit, is that your dad?"

"Probably." Veronica shrugs, like she doesn't have a care in the world.

"Probably?" He gives her a panicked look. "Veronica, we can't greet him like this."

"Well, _I_ can't," she agrees. "I'm not even dressed. But you can."

Before he can comprehend what's happening, she's sliding off his lap and sauntering back towards the bedroom.

"Veronica, wait!" he calls out. "You can't leave me out here like this."

"Just use the bathroom real quick and you'll be fine," she responds, turning into the bedroom and leaving Logan to wonder how she can be so blasé about this.

Logan glances down at himself, then stands and quickly ducks into the bathroom, disposing of the condom and cleaning himself up. His heart starts pounding when the doorbell rings, and he smooths down his shirt as he makes his way out to the living room.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Veronica calls as she heads into the bathroom. "Dad said he wanted to talk to you today. Maybe you can do that while I'm in the shower?"

Logan freezes halfway to the door, staring back down the hallway. "He wants to what? Like a 'what are your intentions toward my daughter' kind of talk?"

"Maybe?" comes Veronica's muffled voice before the bathroom door closes behind her.

"Great," Logan mutters. "Well, that's just fucking perfect."

He forces a smile and runs a hand through his hair as he reaches out to open the door to Veronica's father. "Morning, Mr. Mars. Come on in."

"Hello, Logan." Keith nods, giving a polite smile as he steps inside the apartment. "My daughter not around this fine morning?"

"She's in the shower," says Logan, hoping he looks normal and presentable, and _not_ like he just had sex on the couch a few feet away. "She'll be ready soon. Can I get you something to drink?"

"A coffee would be great. Thank you, Logan," Keith replies, taking a seat at the kitchen island. "Actually, while we're waiting, I was hoping to talk to you…"


	11. Platform

And now for something a little different...

* * *

 **Platform**

The station is crowded, filled with soldiers, officers and sailors smartly in regulation uniform, carrying military-issue duffle bags and backpacks. Through the middle of the crowd walks a young couple; he is tall and slim, clad in pristine US Navy blues, cover perched on his head, looking down at his companion with adoration in his dark brown eyes. She looks impeccable in a deep red dress, pinched tight at the waist and flowing down to mid-calf; her blonde hair is neatly rolled, the curls just brushing her shoulders, and the red lipstick she wears only accentuates the bright blue of her eyes.

They walk arm-in-arm, her hand curled around his forearm, hugging it close to her side as they come to a reluctant stop on the platform. He turns to her, a small regretful smile on his face as his hand lifts to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"I love you, Veronica," he says softly.

Veronica looks up at him, taking in every inch of his handsome face, willing her tears to remain at bay. She's not ready to say goodbye—won't ever be ready—but the train is about to leave and they're out of time.

"I love you, too," she replies, her voice tight with emotion. "My Lieutenant."

"You keep outwitting those bad guys while I'm gone, you hear me?" he murmurs, his hand slides down to her neck, capturing one of her curls between his finger and thumb.

"And you go kick some Japanese ass."

He nods determinedly. "I plan to."

He leans in, kisses her gently at first, before deepening the embrace, putting everything he has into it. When they part, he presses his forehead against hers, weaving his hand beneath her hair and laying his palm flat against the back of her neck.

"When am I going to see you again?" she asks, more to herself than anything else.

"I don't know," he replies, shaking his head sadly. "But I'll write you every day."

"I'll write you, too," she says quickly.

"When I get back," he says. "We'll make things all official-like; live the life we've always dreamed of. Large house, white picket fence, coupla kids."

"I'd like that."

The train's horn sounds, almost impatiently. He lowers his head again, kissing her soundly, committing the taste of her, the feel of her small, lithe body in his arms, to memory.

"Come back to me," she says when they come up for air, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Always," he replies with a watery smile.

She nods and slowly releases her hold on him as the train's horn blasts again. She takes a tiny, reluctant step back, like it's a tremendous effort to let him go.

"You have to go."

"I do." He nods in agreement, even as he steps forward again.

His hands come to the side of her head, careful to avoid the neat rolls of her hair, and he presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. He swallows, stepping back, and nods resolutely before picking up his bag and begins to walk backwards toward the train, his eyes fixed on her. He finally turns, moving to step off the platform, but her voice sounds behind him and he stops.

"Logan, wait!"

He spins around just in time to catch her as she throws herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. His arms wind around her back as he lifts her into the air for a moment, then kisses her urgently as he lowers her to the ground.

"I love you," she tells him again, desperation in her tone.

"I love you, too." He smiles tenderly. "I really do have to go."

"I know." She nods.

"Take care of yourself."

"You, too."

With one final kiss, he turns and steps onto the carriage, getting caught up in the crowd of officers doing the same thing.

As the train departs in a trail of smoke and steam, Veronica is left standing alone on the platform as she finally allows her tears to fall.

Her hand comes to her still-flat stomach and she lowers her head as she murmurs, "Hey, baby. I hope your daddy gets to meet you some day."

* * *

 **Note:** Apologies for any historical inaccuracies (particularly in speech/slang)... there wasn't much time to research the era!


	12. Bowl

**Bowl**

The lights in the Echolls pool house are dimmed, the atmosphere calm and relaxed as the four teenagers settle in to watch a movie together. Logan has claimed the centre of the couch, with Lilly curled under his left arm, while Veronica sits cross-legged on his other side, and Duncan is sprawled out on the floor, his upper body propped up against a beanbag.

"Do we seriously have to watch this again?" asks Lilly, her tone verging on whining. "I thought we'd decided on Zoolander?"

"Zoolander was _one_ idea," says Logan. "But Veronica hasn't seen Easy Rider before."

"And you wanna watch it now?" Lilly leans forward, aiming the question at Veronica, who winces, not wanting to get in the middle of yet another Lilly vs. Logan debate.

"I do." She nods. "Logan's been telling me how good it is, so I thought it would be cool to see it tonight."

"You both decided this?" Lilly questions with a frown. "Without me?"

"Yes, Lils," says Logan, on a sigh. "Sometimes Veronica and I have conversations without you. We're friends, remember?"

Veronica sees Lilly's frown turn accusatory, and she looks a little hurt, so she interjects with, "You know what, that's okay, we can watch Zoolander."

Logan shoots her a bewildered look as he shakes his head. "No, we're gonna watch Easy Rider. Decision's already been made."

Lilly looks bemused for a moment, before she turns her attention to her brother. "Hey, Donut, you'd rather watch Zoolander, right?"

"I'm happy with whatever Veronica wants to see," Duncan replies, turning his head to smile at Veronica.

She smiles back at him, though she's a little taken aback by the expression in his eyes as he looks at her. Lilly's been hinting that Duncan likes her, but Veronica's been shrugging it off so far, not really seeing it. Of course, Lilly being Lilly, she seems determined they should get together so they can double-date with her and Logan, and when Lilly wants something, she usually gets it… except tonight, it seems.

"Okay, well, that's settled," interjects Logan, before things can escalate between Lilly and Duncan. "So, let's get started shall we?"

He presses play on the remote then reaches for the two large bowls of just-popped popcorn on the coffee table, handing one down to Duncan before placing the other in his lap. The movie starts and it doesn't take long for Veronica's attention to be completely captured.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the screen, she occasionally reaches across Logan to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl. On one such occasion, she goes in at the same time as he does and their hands tangle together amongst the buttery kernels. His warm fingers slide against hers for a moment, and the touch sends an unfamiliar, but not unpleasant flutter through Veronica's stomach and her breath catches in her throat.

Lilly chooses that moment to place her hand on Logan's leg, and Veronica stiffens, her eyes widening as she realises what she's doing. Her heart pounding, she quickly pulls her hand out of the bowl, but in the process, she catches Logan's eye. He holds her gaze for a long moment, his eyes dark and intense, before he clears his throat and turns his attention back to the large screen TV, while Veronica can only sit there, staring at his profile in puzzlement.

 _What the hell was that?_


	13. Dead End

This is a continuation of Prompt 2 (Closed)…

* * *

 **Dead End**

"Thanks for coming in, Mr. Echolls," said Veronica, standing from behind her desk to shake his hand. "I know you have a busy schedule."

"Call me Logan, please." He flashed her a handsome smile—one she'd seen many a time in magazines and on the entertainment news programmes—as he took a seat. "And it's no problem. After all, it is in my interest to be here, right?"

"It is," she agreed.

"So, what can you tell me about my wife's misdeeds?" He got straight to the point.

"Well, that's the thing, Mr—uh, Logan," Veronica said regretfully. "I seem to have hit something of a dead end."

He frowned. "A dead end?"

"Well, your wife—being who she is—is not an easy woman to get close to."

Logan looked down at his hands, muttering something under his breath that sounded to Veronica like, "Tell me about it."

She frowned, but pressed on with what she was saying, "Given that she's currently spending most of her time filming and that I can only tail her car as far as the studio entrance, there isn't much I've been able to find out so far."

"So, what, are you telling me this is it? You're done?" He sounded a little irritated.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," she responded patiently. "I have an idea, but I can't pull it off on my own. I was hoping you might be able to help me out."

"Help you out how?" He gave her a suspicious look.

Veronica leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "If I can get access to the set, I might be able to find out more information. You know, talk to the rest of the crew, her cast members, do a little digging. I was thinking I could pose as a crew member."

"Right…" He let that sink in.

At his hesitance, Veronica added, "Look, if you've changed your mind and want to drop this, that's fine."

"No, it's not that," he said. "It's just… I need to make sure this is done the right way."

"The right way?"

He straightened his shoulders, pressing his palms together and resting his forearms on his knees as he leaned forward and looked up at her.

"Here's the thing: I already _know_ she's cheating," he admitted. "It's not the first time, won't be the last. I'm going to ask for a divorce, but the problem is, the prenup is watertight. If I want to get out of this marriage relatively unscathed, I need to make sure that the proof I have will hold up in court."

"Okay." Veronica nodded slowly as she took that in. "Well, I guess I have some research to do, then. Make sure I can get you what you need."

"Thank you, Ms. Mars."

"It's Veronica." She gave him a quick smile. "And I may need to ask for your assistance with some brainstorming. You know, given that you're much more familiar with the industry and the legalities involved in celebrity marriages than I am."

"Of course." He nods, lips curling up in a half-smile. "Anything you need."


	14. Lightbulb

**Lightbulb**

Logan crossed the video store parking lot and slid into his yellow X-Terra, slinging the bag of DVDs and console games onto the passenger seat. He turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing.

"Fuck!" He slammed a hand down on the steering wheel.

He tried the lights; they still worked, but it looked like one of the headlights was blown out.

"Shit," he muttered this time.

He popped the hood, then climbed out of the car to check it out. Which would have been all well and good, except, other than being able to prop up the hood, he knew fuck all about cars. He'd always had people on hand to do that for him. And of course, it was late and he didn't even have a flashlight with him.

With a sigh, he peered uneasily under the hood, barely able to see the engine, let alone figure out what was wrong with the car. Hands on his hips, he took a step back to survey the damage, and noticed the driver's side headlamp had been bashed in.

"Fucking PCHers."

It was payback, he supposed… for, well, everything. For the whole Felix thing, for the 09er-PCH gang feuds, hell, probably even for what he did to Veronica's car last year. He patted his pocket, feeling for his phone… only to find it wasn't there. Shit. He'd left it in his room at The Grand.

"Fucking perfect."

"Well, well, well…" came a voice from behind him. Logan turned to see Weevil appearing out of the shadows. "I wonder… how many rich boys _does_ it take to change a lightbulb?"

"Was this _your_ doing?" Logan demanded to know, squaring his shoulders and staring down the Hispanic biker. "Some twisted sort of revenge?"

"Hey, don't look at me, man." Weevil held his hands up, jutting out his jaw as he sneered at him. "If I wanted revenge, I'd do a hell of a lot more than fuck up your car."

Logan's eyes narrowed as he advanced on him. "Is that a threat, paco?"

Weevil shrugged. "Nah, just an observation."

"It'd better be."

"Look, we called a truce, didn't we, Opie? We're playing nice now."

"That's what I thought," Logan responded, looking at him suspiciously. "But you never can be too careful."

Weevil ignored him and instead nodded toward the car. "Looks like you're in need of some help there. What, no mechanic on speed dial? Daddy's connections all dried up?"

"None of your fucking business."

"Chill out, man." Weevil rolls his eyes. "I'm here to offer my services."

"Sorry, pal, don't swing that way," Logan quipped sarcastically.

Weevil shook his head, his lip curling up. "You know what, rich boy? I was gonna be nice… but fuck that. You can fix your own damn car."

He turned, started walking away, leaving Logan scowling after him, who was on the verge of spewing another rude and likely inappropriate retort when he realised he was letting his only chance of actually getting his car running tonight slip away.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, stepping forward in the direction Weevil had headed.

Weevil stopped, then turned back around slowly, regarding Logan smugly. "Yes, White Boy?"

"Can you—?" Logan started awkwardly, hating that he was having to do this. "Can you get her started?"

"Oh, oh, oh…" Weevil looked like he was trying not to laugh as he sauntered back over to Logan. " _Now_ you want my help? Well, I'm not so sure about that." He cups a hand around the back of his ear. "Think I might need to her a certain magic word.

"Come on, dude." Logan shook his head in frustration. "Will you just help me?"

"Nuh, uh… still waiting to hear it."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He sighed, before adding a reluctant, "Please?"

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Weevil grinned, pulling a small flashlight out of his jacket pocket as he approached the car and peered under the hood. "See what being polite to other people gets you?"

Logan's mouth drops open as he looks up to the sky in annoyance. "Remind me again why I agreed to work with you?"

"Because you need to get off those pesky murder charges. Again."

"Ah, yes, I remember now." Logan sighs. "What is it with this town?"

"Beats me, man."


	15. Peak

**Warning: Contains Angst!**

* * *

 **Peak**

Veronica came to a stop, shrugging off her backpack and lowering it to the ground. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her thighs as she caught her breath.

"You okay?" asked Logan, coming up behind her and gently rubbing her lower back.

"Yeah." She nodded, straightening up and shooting him a tired smile. "Just feeling the altitude. And my age."

"Tell me about it," he said. "We're certainly not as young as we used to be."

"How are we all doing?" their guide asked the small tour group. "Everyone still feeling okay?"

Veronica nodded, then glanced around to see the others all doing the same.

"Okay, it's not much further to the summit," the guide informed them, "but we'll take a five-minute break here before we continue."

Beside her, Logan unzipped the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out two Snickers bars.

"Here." He tossed one to Veronica. "For energy."

"Thanks." She caught it gratefully, wasting no time in tearing open the wrapper and taking a bite as she perched on a nearby rock.

Logan sat down beside her, but didn't say anything more, and they ate their chocolate bars in silence.

A few minutes later, the tour guide announced they were moving on, and they set off to complete the final leg of the climb. It took almost two more hours, but eventually they reached Uhuru Peak. The two of them found a semi-private spot a few feet from the others and Veronica let out an awed gasp as the incredible landscape came into view.

"Would you look at that?" Logan's voice held the same level of awe she was feeling as he slid his arms around her from behind. "It's amazing."

"It is," she murmured softly.

"I almost can't believe we made it."

"I know." She nodded. "I mean, it was touch and go for a while, what with your bad back and the altitude sickness and everything."

"We got through it."

"We did," she said, sombrely. "For him."

"For him," Logan agreed. Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica could see him slowly lick his lips, before he added, "So, are you ready?"

She sucked in a deep, shaky breath. "I think so."

Logan released her and took a step back, sliding off his backpack and opening the top. He pulled out the item they'd carried with them for the last seven days.

"Here." He held it out to Veronica and she took it from him carefully, cradling it in both hands.

He closed the backpack, then rose up, coming to stand in front of her, his hands covering hers around the urn.

"Shall we say goodbye?" he asked softly.

Veronica swallowed, feeling the tears she'd been suppressing since they started this journey finally starting to spill forward.

"Okay," she whispered.

Logan squeezed her hand in comfort, then reached out to lift the lid of the urn. Holding it between them, they tipped it, letting the ashes fall into the wind.

Nothing could have ever prepared her for this moment; for how hard it would be, how heartbreaking. But it's what he would have wanted.

"Goodbye, my sweet boy," Veronica murmured, her chest tight with emotion as tears slid down her cheeks.

"Rest in peace, son," added Logan, his voice strangled as they watched the last of the ashes float into the wind, down the mountainside.

"I can't believe he's gone, Lo," she managed as Logan replaced the lid and carefully set the urn down on the ground.

"Me either." He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her. "But at least he had a good life."

"He was twenty _-_ six, Logan," she said, her gaze on his chin, focusing on the greying stubble there. "That's way too young. He missed out on so much."

"Hey, don't do that." He reached out, wiping away her tears with his thumb, even as his own tears meandered down his face, and tucked a stray strand of her dyed blonde hair behind her ear. "He knew the risks and he still chose to go. He gave his life for his country. He was a hero."

She nodded, though she couldn't stop an anguished sob from escaping her lips. "He shouldn't have had to give his life at all. It was bad enough that I had to worry about you all those years… I never expected to lose _him_."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Logan's arms tightened around her and she sniffed as she looked up at him. He might be older now, with creases in his forehead, laughter lines around his eyes and silvery streaks in his hair, but he was still the same Logan Echolls she'd fallen in love with more than forty years ago, the same Logan she'd married twenty-seven years ago.

"I miss him so much," she admitted.

"Me, too."

"The thought that I'll never see his smiling face ever again…" She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Never get to hug him again."

"I know." Above her, Logan exhaled a shaky breath. "But it'll get easier. I promise."

Veronica nodded, though it didn't feel like it in the slightest.

"I love you," he told her, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you, too."

He hugged her tightly, and she let herself sink into his arms, drawing strength and comfort from him as she inhaled his scent. After several long moments, she turned her head, resting it against his chest and opening her eyes as she took in the amazing view once more.

It had always been their son's dream to travel to Tanzania and climb Mount Kilimanjaro. He'd been planning the trip for over a year, but then he'd been assigned a last-minute deployment to the Middle East… and he hadn't come back.

Dylan might never have gotten the chance to come here when he was alive, but at least she and Logan could do it for him, could bring him here to rest.


	16. Salt

This one is a companion to prompt 12 (Bowl)…

* * *

 **Salt**

 **2006 – Age Nineteen**

"So, what are we watching?" asks Veronica as she settles down beside Logan on the sofa in his suite at the Neptune Grand, bowl of popcorn in hand. She takes the empty DVD case from him, raising an eyebrow. "Easy Rider again? How many times have you made me watch this now?"

He just gives a smirk and responds with, "Tell me again how many times you've made me watch The South Park Movie?"

"Only like… three times," she says. "But you've made me watch _this_ at least ten times."

"So? It's a great movie," he pronounces, pressing his fingers and thumb together and holding his hand up in an appreciative gesture. "A classic."

"If you say so."

"Come on." Logan slides an arm around her and pulls her into his side, taking the popcorn from her and balancing the bowl on his lap, as he starts the DVD running. "You know you love it."

She smiles, though rather than replying, she lays her head against his shoulder. Truth is, it's not the movie she loves, it's spending time with him like this. It's seeing his eyes light up and the soft smile that graces his features as he watches; it's seeing him relax and have fun for a while.

Logan grabs some of the popcorn and tosses it in his mouth. He chews for a moment, but frowns as he swallows.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing." He shakes his head. "Just… I thought you preferred salt on your popcorn?"

Veronica shrugs as she reaches for a handful herself. "I felt like buttered tonight."

They make it about thirty minutes into the movie before the casual brushes of their hands as they share the popcorn become lingering caresses, and the feel of Logan's buttery fingers sliding against hers sends tendrils of lust right down to the pit of her stomach.

Eventually, Logan closes his fingers around hers and lifts her hand out of the bowl, bringing it to his lips. His eyes are still fixed on the TV screen, but Veronica can only stare at him, her breathing becoming laboured, as one by one, he sucks her fingers into his mouth. Her stomach clenches and she squeezes her thigh muscles together, as if that will ease the rapidly-building tension in her body.

"Logan…" she whispers, her voice unsteady.

He smiles, still not taking his eyes off the screen, then chastely kisses the tips of her fingers before linking them with his own and lowering their hands to his thigh.

 _Oh, it's like that, is it?_ Veronica purses her lips. _Well, you asked for it, buddy._

She shifts, lifting her head and pressing gentle kisses to his neck. With her free hand, she takes the popcorn bowl from his lap and places it down behind her, then rises up on her knees and starts kissing along his jawline.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks softly.

"What does it look like?" she whispers. "Continuing what you just started."

He smirks. "And what was that?"

"Oh, I think you know."

She extracts her hand from his and walks her fingers up his thigh until she reaches his crotch. She cups him over his jeans and he sucks in a sharp breath.

"Veronica…" he starts, then swallows. "We're s-supposed to be watching the movie."

"Oh?" she replies, moving to straddle his lap. "And you'd rather watch a movie you've seen dozens of times than have sex with me?"

His lips twitch mischievously. "Well, to be fair, I've had sex with you dozens of times, too."

Veronica raises an incredulous eyebrow. "You're seriously comparing our sex life to a movie about a drug-fuelled road-trip?"

He grins now, his hands slipping beneath her top, his butter-covered fingers caressing her lower back. "Maybe."

"Well, then, I'm just gonna have to make you forget all about the movie."

"Give it your best shot," he challenges.

"I will."

She slides her arms around his neck, capturing his mouth in a passion-filled kiss as she grinds her lower body against his. He responds eagerly, his hands curving around her ass and holding her even closer. However, when she breaks the kiss and darts her tongue out to taste his neck, it doesn't take long for her to realise she's lost his attention.

"Hey." She frowns at him, taking his jaw in her hand and turning his gaze back to her. "Eyes on me, not the screen."

"Sorry." He unsuccessfully tries to suppress a grin.

"You know what? I'm not gonna compete for your attention," she says airily, sliding off his lap and shooting him a sly smile. "So, you have a choice: you can either stay right there and watch the movie, or you can join me in the bedroom, where I'll be naked and having a good time… with or without you."

She doesn't wait for an answer, just turns her back on him and saunters into his bedroom, tugging her shirt over her head as she goes. It's only a matter of seconds before she hears the TV turn off and Logan appears in the bedroom doorway. He strides across the room and gathers her into his arms.

"Movie?" he asks, his voice gravelly as he lowers his mouth towards hers. "What movie?"


	17. Enchant(ing)

Set in my Second Chances 'verse, this ficlet is partly based on a prompt suggestion I had from a reader a couple of years ago :).

* * *

 **Enchant(ing)**

 **May 2014**

 **New York City**

The streets of Manhattan are busy, filled with both tourists and locals who have turned out for Fleet Week. A lone officer, dressed in clean, pressed Navy summer whites, weaves through the crowd. Reaching a nearby taxi rank, he glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and then hails one of the waiting cabs.

"Brooklyn, please," he says to the driver, as he climbs into the backseat and holds out the paper to him. "This address."

The yellow cab pulls into the city traffic and the officer sits back, staring out of the window as he wonders if he's doing the right thing. He thinks he is, but there's this nagging voice in the back of his mind that's telling him he should just leave well alone.

The taxi heads over the Brooklyn Bridge and into the borough, before eventually coming to a stop outside a tall apartment block.

"Here you go," says the driver. "That'll be $25."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of notes.

"Keep the change," he says, handing over the money.

Climbing out of the cab, he closes the door and looks up at the building before him. Approaching the front door, he gives it a tug, then swears under his breath when he realises it's locked and that he needs a code to get in.

"Guess that settles it," he murmurs to himself. "Just confirms this was a stupid idea."

Feeling rather conspicuous in Navy whites, he turns back toward the road with the intention of getting back into the cab, but it has already taken off, and there are no signs of any others. With a glance at his watch, he decides he might as well explore some of Brooklyn while he's here—make his pointless trip a little less pointless.

The apartment building isn't far from Prospect Park, so he removes his cover from his head and tucks it under one arm as he makes his way towards it. After wasting almost an hour wandering through the park, he stops in a local café for a quick coffee before he attempts to get back to Manhattan. As he sits at one of the tables outside the small establishment, reading a newspaper while he sips at his coffee, he notices a blonde girl sitting a few feet away, the table in front of her scattered with textbooks and notepads. Her back is to him, but he can easily hear her conversation as she talks on the phone.

"Come on, don't be like that, you know I'd be there if I could," she says, her voice warm and melodic. "I have finals. Important ones. You remember finals, right, Wallace? I can't just blow them off to fly back to Neptune."

 _Fuck._ The officer's eyes widen in realisation. _It's her._

A waitress walks past her then, and as she turns, flagging her down, he lifts the newspaper so his face is obscured. Even so, he still manages to get a glimpse of her face as she smiles brightly at the server and asks for a refill of her coffee.

 _God, she really_ _is mesmerising._

He finishes his coffee as he considers whether he should approach her or just leave her be. The decision is pretty much made for him, however, when she returns to her phone call with Wallace and starts talking about introducing him to her new boyfriend sometime. With a sigh, he folds the paper and slips away. Calling a cab from a couple of blocks away, he heads back over the bridge to Manhattan and the large ship awaiting him.

* * *

"Hey, man, where've you been?" his roommate claps him on the shoulder as he approaches the small group of his squadron-mates down by the ship terminal an hour later.

"Nowhere important." He shrugs. "Just taking in some sights."

"Well, we're all heading out to that bar in the Village Bilbo's been raving about," says his roommate. "You coming?"

"Sure." He nods. "Uh, hey, Mouth?"

 _I went looking your ex-girlfriend…_

Logan stops, turning around in question. "Yeah?"

 _You know, 'the one that got away'..._

Chaos hesitates, the words on the tip of his tongue… but looking at his best friend's face, relaxed and carefree, he can't bring himself to do it.

 _Turns out she's in Law School here in New York…_

He shakes his head. "Never mind. It's nothing."

 _And she seems just as enchanting as you described all those years ago…_

Mouth frowns. "You sure?"

 _But she looked happy, and so do you, and I couldn't bring myself to interfere in either of your lives…_

"Yeah." Chaos forces a smile. "Come on, let's go."

 _I'm sure it was for the best._


	18. Rotten

We're going Post-MKAT for this one :).

* * *

 **Rotten**

Veronica smiles, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she lets herself into her apartment Thursday evening. She's had a long day, what with this big new case they're working on, but Logan has only just returned from his last-minute deployment, and she's dying to spend some quality alone time with him tonight… preferably in bed.

"Hello?" she calls, closing the door behind her then slipping off her shoes and shrugging out of her jacket. "Logan?"

Pony bounds towards her, filled with excitement, slobbering all over Veronica as she crouches down to greet her. "Hey, Pone, you miss me?"

The puppy lets out a soft bark, before licking her hand, then rising up to place her paws in her lap.

"I'll take that as a yes." Veronica smiles, then looks around at the empty apartment. "Where's Daddy, huh? Is he here?"

She stands and moves into the kitchen, refilling Pony's almost-empty water bowl and fixing her some food. While the dog is happily munching away, she heads down the hall to her bedroom—or is it their bedroom now? After all, Logan's been practically living here lately—and opens the door. She blinks in surprise when she finds him curled up in the bed, the covers pulled tightly around him so that only the top of his head is visible.

"Logan?" she enquires, gently closing the door behind her and padding over to the bed. She perches on the edge, leaning on one hand as she reaches out to touch his shoulder. "Lo?"

"Hmm," he mumbles, shifting a little under the comforter, though he doesn't turn to face her.

"Hey, it's me," she says softly, running her hand over his upper arm. "You okay?"

"Not really," comes the gravelly reply, before she hears a groan and he finally, slowly, turns over, his eyes closed and the covers covering half of his face.

Veronica frowns, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "What's wrong?"

"Dunno." He gives a half-hearted shrug, not bothering to open his eyes. "But I feel rotten."

"Rotten?" She smiles a little despite his obvious discomfort. "You sound like a character in a Jane Austen novel."

"Don't tease," he grumbles. "I'm sick here."

"Sorry," she says, schooling her features into a more serious expression. "What can I do to help you feel better?" He just gives another shrug, which makes Veronica shake her head in feigned disbelief. "What, no innuendo-filled comeback? You _must_ be sick."

"What, you thought I was faking?" He pries one eye open, the side of his mouth lifting in a small smile that looks like it takes some effort. "I feel like shit. My throat hurts, my head hurts, and everything aches."

"I'm sorry." Veronica gives him a sympathetic smile, stroking his hair back off his clammy forehead. "You want me to fix you some soup?"

His other eye opens and he looks up at her with blood-shot eyes as he nods. "Yes, please."

"Any preferences?" she asks. "How about Mrs. Navarro's specialty?"

"Please."

"Okay, coming right up." His eyes close again as she leans down and drops a gentle kiss to his temple. "Have you taken anything?"

"No," he murmurs. "Haven't even made it out of bed today."

"I'll get you some Tylenol."

"Thanks."

Veronica slides off the bed and grabs some Tylenol and a glass of water from the bathroom, placing it down on the nightstand beside him, before heading back into the kitchen to get started on the soup.

Back in freshman year of high school, Logan used to rave about the special soup Letty Navarro made for him when he was sick. So much so, that after he and Lilly brought some round for Veronica when she had the flu, she decided it was so good that she asked Mrs. Navarro for the recipe.

It doesn't take long before it's bubbling away on the stove, and by the time she carries a tray laden with soup, bread and another glass of water into the bedroom, Logan has managed to prop himself up in bed, resting against the pillows, though the bedcovers are still pulled right up to his chin and he looks pale and sweaty.

 _Poor thing_ , she thinks. _He looks terrible._

"Here you go," she announces. "Homemade soup just for you."

He smiles tiredly as she carefully places the tray down on his lap and takes a seat beside him again.

"Thank you, Veronica," he says, his tone filled with sincerity.

"Of course." She gives a warm smile, watching as he eases one arm out from the comforter and gingerly reaches for the spoon.

It seems like it takes a great effort to scoop up just a small amount of the soup and bring it to his lips, and after just two painfully slow spoonfuls, Veronica can't take it anymore.

"Can I help?" she asks.

"No, it's okay." Logan shakes his head, then winces, bringing his free hand to his forehead. "I can do it."

"You sure?" She studies him with concern. "I don't mind."

"I'm not an invalid, Veronica," he mutters tiredly. "Or a child. I don't need to be fed."

"Okay." She nods, backing off. After all, if the roles were reversed, she's not sure she'd be comfortable with him spoon-feeding her either. "Is it good?"

"Amazing." He gives a small smile. "Thank you."

They sit together in companionable silence as Logan slurps up the rest of the soup, then takes a long drink of the water. When he's done, she takes the tray from him and returns it to the kitchen before joining him in the bedroom once more.

He's lying down again now, facing away from her, and she slides back into the bed, under the covers this time, and curls up behind him, her arm slipping around his waist.

"Don't get too close, okay?" he mumbles. "I don't want you getting sick, too."

"Don't care," she replies, pressing her lips to his t-shirt-covered shoulder, though if she's honest, with this new case, she can't really afford to call in sick.

Silence falls between them again, and for a moment Veronica thinks he's fallen asleep, but then he says, "Sorry for ruining your plans for the night."

"You didn't," she assures him. "Though, when I thought about spending the evening in bed with you, this isn't exactly what I pictured."

"Me either." He gives a small chuckle which quickly turns into a cough. "I don't know what happened… I was feeling fine last night."

"You've been through a lot the last few months," she says. "Now that you're home, maybe your body's just reacting to it all."

"Yeah, maybe." His hand covers hers and he squeezes it gently, as he adds, "Thanks for taking care of me."

"You don't have to thank me, Logan," she tells him with a smile. "I'll always take care of you, whenever you need me to."

He sucks in a breath, before slowly turning onto his back so he can look at her. The tender expression in his eyes makes her heart skip a beat.

"And I, you."

Veronica feels a lump rise in her throat, touched by the emotion in his voice, but instead of getting all mushy, she looks down and deflects with, "Wow, you're really channelling that 19th Century Jane Austen vibe today, aren't you?"

There's no reply, and by the time she looks up at him again, his eyes are closed and his breathing has evened out. She lifts herself up on one elbow and leans over to drop a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Sleep well, Lo."


	19. Can't Do This

Back to season 2 today :). This can be considered a sequel to Prompt 3: Demonstration, though it doesn't have to be :).

* * *

 **Can't Do This**

Veronica is roused from sleep by a loud rapping at the door. She squints, lifting her head to glance at the clock. One-fifteen in the morning. She groans, dropping her face back down into the pillow, before reluctantly pulling herself out of bed. Running her fingers through her hair to get rid of the tangles, she makes her way to the front door and pulls it open, blinking in surprise when she sees who's on the other side.

"This feels suspiciously like déjà vu," she says. "What are you doing here, Logan?"

"I didn't know where else to go." He steps forward and her eyes widen at his appearance. His left cheek sports a red welt and to her shock, there are tear-tracks on his face.

"Shit, what happened?" she asks, opening the door to let him in.

He doesn't say another word, just steps inside the apartment, his arms wrapped around himself as he looks anywhere but her. Veronica closes the door, then turns to face him, giving him a once-over. She sucks in a sharp breath when she sees the damp patch running down his pant leg.

"What the fuck happened, Logan?" she demands to know.

He sniffs, looking at something over her shoulder as he mutters. "PCHers jumped me in a parking lot. Knocked me out, bundled me into a van, and next thing I know, they're playing fucking Russian Roulette with my appendages."

All the breath leaves Veronica as she stares at him in shock. "They did _what_?"

"They were trying to make me confess to killing Felix," he admits. "Almost shot my fucking hand off… and when I told them I didn't know anything, they aimed the gun at my kneecap."

"Oh, God." Veronica swallows harshly. _This is getting so out of hand._ "Who was it? Weevil?"

"He wasn't there," says Logan, "But I'm pretty sure he was behind it. But I called him after they dumped me on the beach not far from here and first thing he said was, 'is it done?'."

"Fuck." She swears, then looks up at him properly, frowning in concern as she reaches out to him. "You're really pale, and you're shaking. You should sit down."

Logan shakes his head, looking uncomfortable. "No… I'm, uh, kind of… unsanitary right now."

Veronica's eyes drop to his pants once more, before she catches him watching her and quickly covers with, "Look, take a shower, okay? I'll find you something else to wear."

With a barely perceptible nod, he follows her down the hall to the bathroom. She hands him a towel, watching as he ducks inside the room, then heads for her bedroom, where she digs out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of sweatpants… she borrowed them a few months ago, when they were dating, and never got around to returning them. She places them down on the floor outside the bathroom then calls through the door to let him know they're there.

Ten minutes later, he appears in her bedroom doorway, dressed in the t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair damp. Veronica crosses the room and comes to a stop in front of him.

"You feeling any better?"

He shrugs, avoiding her gaze. "I guess."

"Logan…" she starts, though she can't quite figure out what she wants to say.

Instead, not really thinking about it, she rises up and slides her arms around him in a comforting hug. He doesn't react for a moment, his body stiff, but then he relaxes a little his arms coming around her back. She hugs him for a long moment, before pulling back in concern.

"You're still shaking," she observes. "You're probably in shock. You should lie down."

Taking his arm, she leads him over to her single bed and she nods encouragingly as he slides onto it, lying back against the pillows.

"Can you-?" He stops suddenly, though Veronica knows what he was going to ask, and shakes her head.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please?" He gazes up at her beseechingly, looking vulnerable, like a lost little boy, and Veronica feels her resolve slipping.

"Fine, okay." She holds up a finger. "But no funny business."

"After tonight?" He gives a scoff, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. "Couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Scoot over," she instructs, then gingerly squeezes in beside him on the small bed.

They lie side-by-side in silence, and Veronica deliberately keeps her eyes on the ceiling as she listens to him breathe. For a moment, she thinks he's drifted off to sleep, but then a shuddering, hitching breath escapes him and she turns her head to find his eyes squeezed shut as a fresh tear creeps down his cheek.

"Hey," she murmurs, rising up on one elbow and reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. "It's okay. You're okay. You're safe."

He squeezes his eyes tighter, then slowly opens them to look up at her. "I was scared shitless tonight, Veronica. I mean, like 'life flashing before my eyes' shitless."

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"You know what I saw, in what could have been my final moments?" he says softly. "I saw you. I thought, this is it; I'll never see you again."

Veronica's chest tightens with dread, and sympathy, and something else she's been trying to push away for the last few months. She reaches out, cupping his jaw with her hand and turning his face towards her, careful to avoid the rapidly-developing bruise on his cheek.

"I'm right here."

His eyes dart to her mouth, then lock with hers and her heart starts to pound. She knows what's coming next. It shouldn't happen. It _can't_ happen; they aren't together, and she's with Duncan now… but she's powerless to stop it.

Their lips meet in a gentle, tentative kiss. Veronica starts to pull away, but then Logan's hand is behind her neck, tugging her down, trying to deepen it, and against her better judgement, she lets it happen. It feels so good, tingles racing down her spine as his tongue nudges at her lips. She allows it to continue for just a few seconds longer, before she quickly breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as she sits up and runs her hands through her hair.

"I can't… _we_ can't do this, Logan."

"Right." He exhales heavily, his head dropping back against the pillows. "Of course not."

"I'm sorry."

He starts to sit up. "I should go."

"How are you gonna get home?"

He shrugs. "I'll call a cab back to my car."

"At this time in the morning? You'll be lucky." Veronica raises a sceptical eyebrow. "Look, I'll drive you."

He shakes his head. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," she insists, though she's not really sure why. She slides off the bed and gestures to him. "Come on, let's get you home."


	20. Trainer

Companion to prompt 12 (Bowl) and prompt 16 (Salt). This one takes place during Slides of Cosy Lives.

* * *

 **Trainer**

 **2020 – Age Thirty-Two**

Logan clears the empty plates from the dining table and loads them into the dishwasher, before grabbing a couple of sodas from the fridge and popping some popcorn. As he's filling a bowl with warm, freshly-popped popcorn, preparing it just the way Veronica likes, she enters the kitchen, sidling up to him.

"You ready?" he asks.

"Yep." She nods, running her hand down his back as she snags a couple of pieces of popcorn from the bowl and tosses them into her mouth. "All set."

"Hey, hands off." He pulls her wrist away from the bowl when she goes in for more. "This is for the movie."

"Come on, it's only a couple." She looks up at him with an exaggerated pout that he refuses to let affect him.

"I don't care," he responds. "You're not having any more."

She rolls her eyes. "Geez, so controlling."

Logan just gives a smirk and shakes his head as he picks up the popcorn bowl, waiting for Veronica to grab the sodas before they head into the living room together. He sinks down on the couch and lifts his arm for her to join him. She smiles, placing the sodas down on the coffee table and curling up against his side.

"So, what movie options do we have tonight?" she asks, reaching for the soft blanket draped over the end of the couch and tugging it around her.

Sliding his arm around her, Logan picks up the TV remote and flicks through to the On Demand menu. "Let me know when you see something you like."

"Oh, I already have," she murmurs, looking up at him with a sly smile.

"You know what I mean," he responds, shaking his head in amusement before his attention is caught by the list of movie titles on the screen. "Oh, they have Easy Rider. How about it?"

"No," says Veronica firmly. "We are not watching Easy Rider _again_."

"Aw, come on, it's tradition."

"No," she repeats firmly. "It's my choice tonight. No Easy Rider."

She scrolls through the movies on offer, stopping on one as her eyes light up.

"Ooh, Back to the Future 2. Haven't seen that in years." She looks up at him. "What do you think?"

"Sure." Logan gives a smile. "Now that we're well past 2015, we can compare their version of the future with ours."

Veronica starts the movie running and opens the cans of soda, then relaxes back into Logan's side as she tucks into the popcorn.

A few minutes in, when Marty McFly puts on the sneakers with the power laces, she says, "Well, we definitely didn't have sneakers like that in 2015. Or now, for that matter."

"You know," Logan says, remembering a conversation he'd had on base the other day. "In Britain, they call them trainers, not sneakers."

Veronica lifts her head from his shoulder, looking up at him with amusement. "Okay, where did _that_ random piece of trivia come from?"

He shrugs. "One of my students is a foreign exchange pilot from England. He mentioned it the other day."

"Okay, then…"

She gives him a bemused look, before settling back against him, and Logan tightens his arm around her as they watch the movie in relative silence. Occasionally, they both reach for a handful of popcorn at the same, and Logan can't help but chuckle when she deliberately fights him for the kernels in his hand.

"Hey, stick with your own popcorn and stop stealing mine," he murmurs. "There's plenty to go around."

"Sorry," she says, though he can see she's trying her best to conceal a grin as she pulls her hand out of the bowl and shoves a few pieces into her mouth. She chews carefully and swallows before adding, "Not my fault you had the best pieces."

They get about halfway through the movie, before crying sounds through the monitor on the coffee table. Veronica moves to get up, but Logan stops her.

"I'll go. You keep watching."

He hands her the bowl and slides off the couch before heading down the hall to their bedroom.

"Hey, baby girl," he greets Abigail, who is screaming her head off. He gently lifts her from her bassinet. "What's wrong, huh?"

He cradles the three-month old against his shoulder so he can check her diaper, then wrinkles his nose at the smell.

"Yeah, you definitely need changing. Come on, sweetheart."

He carries her into her bedroom and places her down on the changing table, keeping up a running commentary with her as he disposes of her dirty diaper and cleans her up.

"I think Mommy finally got fed up of Easy Rider, don't you?" he says softly. "I'm actually surprised it took her this long."

Abi just gurgles at him, sucking a fist into her mouth.

"Yeah, I agree." Logan nods solemnly, reaching for a clean diaper and lifting her up so he can slide it underneath her. "It's a travesty."

As he fastens it securely around her, she kicks her legs out and gurgles more loudly.

"You would watch it with me though, wouldn't you?" he says, doing up her romper, then reaching out to tickle her tummy. "When you're old enough, I'll introduce you to it. We'll watch it together and I can show you exactly why it's my favourite movie."

In response, Abigail blows a spit bubble, before giving him a wide smile.

"Oh, you think you're so adorable, don't you?" he says with a shake of his head, lifting her into his arms. "Guess you have good reason, because you totally are."

He leans down to kiss her forehead, and she smiles again, causing his heart to melt.

"You, Abigail Echolls, are the most adorable little girl in the world." He smiles down at her, tracing her soft cheek with one finger. "Now, are you gonna be good for Mommy and Daddy and go back to sleep?"

As if on cue, she lets out a big yawn and her eyelid begin to droop.

"Good girl," he whispers, carrying her back down the hall to the master bedroom and carefully putting her back down in the bassinet.

Closing the door behind him, he makes his way back down the hall to the living room, where Veronica is now stretched out on the sofa, her head propped up on a cushion.

"Any room left for me?" he teases, lifting her legs and sliding onto the other end of the couch, before placing her feet down in his lap.

"Is she okay?" Veronica asks, turning her head to look at him.

"Yeah, just needed changing," he tells her, taking one of her feet in his hand and gently massaging it. "She's sleeping again now."

"Great," Veronica smiles lazily. "Just gotta hope she sleeps for at least another couple hours."

Logan rests his head back against the top of the couch, as he continues to massage her feet.

"Yeah, that'd be good."


	21. Superstition

**Superstition**

It's a blistering hot July day in the Arabian Gulf. A row of grey F/A-18F aircraft sit on the flight deck of the USS Nimitz, about half of them occupied as they prepare for take-off. Various ground crew surround the planes, completing their final pre-flight engineering checks. Inside the cockpit of one such F/A-18, Lieutenant Junior Grade Logan Echolls is carrying out his own pre-flight checks, his finger running down the laminated card as he reaches out and flips and turns the various switches and knobs surrounding him. Cosmo, his WSO, is situated in the second seat behind him, making sure the flight weapon's system is working correctly before they launch.

"You about ready to go, Mouth?" Cosmo's voice floats through Logan's headset a moment later.

"Yeah, in a second," Logan says, then lifts the microphone away from his face.

He returns the pre-flight checklist to its compartment to his right, before pulling a slightly crumpled photo from his left-breast pocket. He smooths the photo out, tracing it with his thumb as he looks down at it with a soft smile, before bringing it to his lips and kissing Veronica's smiling face. Logan slides the photo back into his pocket and closes the zip, then pats it, his hand over his heart.

"Wish me luck," he murmurs, before pulling his microphone back to his mouth and addressing Cosmo. "Right, let's get this baby up in the air."

As the jet taxis across the flight deck and gets into position ready for the catapult release, Logan pats his chest one more time. Just for luck.

Okay, so carrying Veronica's picture with him all the time might seem kinda stupid, given that he hasn't seen her in eight years and probably never will see her again, but this particular photo has been his good luck charm since he was nineteen. It's got him through the worst of the bad times, through the best and worst of OCS and flight training, and now it gets him through each and every one of his operational missions.

Every pilot has their particular pre-flight superstition, and this one is his.


	22. Leverage

**Leverage**

Veronica grins as she makes her way around to the back of the Echolls property and heads for the pool house. There's only one week left of summer, just one more week until she, Logan and Duncan follow Lilly up to Neptune High, and she's determined to make the most of it. On the agenda today is an afternoon of the four of them hanging out at the pool, and then most likely an evening spent watching movies.

She's almost half an hour early and Lilly and Duncan probably aren't here yet, but that just means she'll get to spend some time hanging out with Logan for a while. The two of them have been pretty good friends since not long after he moved to Neptune two years ago, but then he and Lilly started dating last year and they've been pretty much attached at the hip ever since, which has left Veronica feeling a bit like a third wheel. So, any time she and Logan can spend together, without her having to watch them sucking each other's faces off, is time she's gonna covet.

Veronica approaches the pool house and pulls the door open without knocking, heading straight through with a cheerful, "Hey, I know I'm early but—"

"Shit!" Logan curses from the sofa, practically jumping out of his skin as he scrambles for the TV remote and hurriedly changes the channel. "Veronica, what are you doing here?"

"Logan, what's going on?" Veronica queries as she steps further into the pool house and frowns at the TV screen in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he says quickly, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, his cheeks reddening.

Veronica studies him disbelievingly. "And doing nothing makes you blush?"

"No, I—I mean… you startled me," he stutters, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, like he always does when he's embarrassed about something.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion. "Hmm, Logan Echolls, were you watching porn?"

His mouth drops open in surprise, and she can't quite tell whether it's because he's embarrassed that she just caught him in a private act, or because she actually said the word 'porn'.

"No, I was not!" he exclaims indignantly, tugging at his t-shirt, straightening it out.

"Well, buddy, your body language is telling me otherwise," she tells him, her lips twitching in amusement as he squirms under her gaze.

"I'm serious," he insists. "You really think I would be watching porn right before my girlfriend and best friends come over?"

"You are a fourteen-year-old boy," she says solemnly. "I hear doing _that_ is pretty much a reflex for you guys during these angst-filled teen years."

"Hmm." He looks at her in puzzlement. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent friend, Veronica?"

She chooses to ignore him as her curiosity wins out. "Okay, so if you weren't watching porn, what exactly _were_ you doing?"

He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, before giving a relenting sigh. "If I tell you, will you promise not to tell Lilly or Duncan?"

She grins, excited at the prospect of having a secret to keep, something just between them. "Ooh, what is it?"

He holds up a finger. "Not until you promise."

"Okay, fine, I promise."

"Come sit down." He shifts over a little, making some room for her, and she takes a seat beside him. "You also have to promise not to laugh."

"Why would I laugh?" She turns wide, innocent eyes to him.

He groans. "Just promise."

"I promise."

"I was watching this." He points the remote at the screen and flips back to the channel he was watching.

Veronica stares at the screen for a long moment, tilting her head before blinking in surprise.

"You were watching Charmed?" she questions. "Like, as a fan?"

"Um, kinda?"

"Seriously?" She turns to look at him in confusion, before realisation dawns. "Oh, wait, don't tell me: it's because of Alyssa Milano, isn't it?"

Something flickers across his gaze for a moment before he nods, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning at her. "Yeah, she's totally hot. I mean, those boobs…"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Veronica says quickly, sinking back against the couch cushions.

The episode is still playing on the TV and she finds herself drawn to it, then after a couple of minutes, she notices that Logan is riveted to the screen as well—except Alyssa isn't even in this scene.

"Hey, Logan?" she says softly.

"Yeah?" he responds, not even taking his eyes off the TV.

"You don't just watch for Alyssa Milano, do you?"

He shrugs, looking down at his hands, embarrassed. "No."

"Didn't think so," she says knowingly.

He looks up at her beseechingly. "Please don't tell anyone. You promised."

"I did promise," she acknowledges. "And I won't tell. Though, I have to say, the idea of using this new information as leverage to get you to be nice to me forever is kind of appealing."

"You wouldn't." He looks slightly alarmed.

"No, I wouldn't." She smiles, shaking her head. "I don't break my promises, Logan. You know that."

"Thank you." He smiles too, relaxing beside her and slouching against the cushions. "So, how late do you think Lilly and Duncan are gonna be this time?"

Veronica grins. "Hopefully late enough that we can finish this episode before they arrive."


	23. Flicker

**Flicker**

Veronica enters the smoky, downtown L.A. club, adjusting the jewelled purse in her hand and smoothing down her long silk dress as she scans the room. She weaves her way through the small crowd and as she crosses the room, her eyes fall on the tall, handsome man leaning against the bar. He's dressed in a well-fitting, pressed dark-grey waistcoat and suit, a white handkerchief tucked in the left breast pocket, and wingtip shoes. A grey Fedora sits on the bar counter in front of him, next to a glass of whiskey. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips as she lets her gaze roam up and down his lean body.

He turns his head, catching her eye, and she adds a little extra sway to her hips as she sidles over to him. The band on the stage in the corner of the club is playing Nina Simone's Do I Move You? and she smiles, letting the sensual beat flows through her.

She comes to a stop in front of him, leaning one elbow on the bar as she looks up at him with interest. "So, you come here often?"

"Original," is his deadpan response, his eyebrow raised.

She shrugs, reaching out and tracing a finger along his suit-covered forearm. "Enquiring minds want to know."

He smirks, lifting the glass of amber liquid to his mouth and taking a sip. Veronica's eyes follow the glass, fixing on the movement of his throat as he swallows.

"Not that often," he answers finally, placing the drink back down on the bar. "You?"

"Not that often, either," she says, gaze flicking to his lapels. "Nice suit."

He gives another smirk, leaning in to brush her blonde curls back over her shoulder, before murmuring, "Beautiful dress."

A shiver runs down her spine at both the suggestive tone in his voice and the feel of his warm breath against her neck. He pulls back and their eyes lock. Veronica can't look away, finding herself mesmerised by his dark gaze. She opens her mouth to say… something… but before she can form any words, the lights above them flicker, and suddenly the entire club is bathed in darkness.

"What the hell?" Veronica hears him murmur above her head, his hand landing on her arm, as if to check she's still there.

The blackout only lasts for a few seconds, before the lights flicker a couple more times and then come back on fully. Veronica barely has time to adjust to the brightness before a scream echoes around the club.

"Oh my God, he's dead!" comes a terrified-sounding female voice from a few feet away. "He's dead!"

Veronica looks in the direction of the woman to find her staring down at a male body sprawled out on the floor, his face and neck covered in blood. Before she, or anyone else, can react, an announcement sounds over the club's sound system.

"Okay, nobody panic. This is all just part of the evening's entertainment," comes the disembodied male voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your 1950's jazz-club-themed murder mystery evening. When you arrived, you were each handed an information packet with details of your character and your instructions for the evening, which will involve looking for clues and talking with other participants to try to find the killer. I wish you all good luck."

When the announcement ends and the event's participants start to chatter amongst themselves, Veronica turns to her companion, an eager grin spreading across her face.

"Okay, then." She rubs her hands together gleefully. "Let's get this show on the road."

Beside her, Logan gives a chuckle. "I knew this would be right up your alley."

"Got that right, mister." She smiles widely. "Great suggestion for date night."

"It's fun, huh? I mean, the costumes alone…" He gives her a leering once-over. "You look incredible, by the way."

"Why, thank you," Veronica preens, fluffing her curls. "You look pretty Goddamn amazing yourself."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Oh, you know, just something I had lying around."

"Yeah, I bet." She grins, then nods to the drink in front of him. "Uh, that's not—?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's just apple juice," he assures her. "I'm not gonna fall off the wagon for the sake of one little murder-mystery evening."

"Good to know." Veronica nods, before straightening up and glancing around her and then clapping her hands. "Okay, enough of the small talk. We can catch up later, back at the hotel. Right now, we have a murder mystery to solve."

* * *

 **Notes:** Despite the beginning of the scene, this actually takes place Post-TDTL. The idea for it came about by listening to a cover of Do I Move You?, which gave me the idea to write a 1950's blues/jazz club story set to that song... but then I found out that Nine Simone didn't release it until 1967 and that wasn't gonna work for the actual 1950s... so I went in this direction instead :P.


	24. Bookmark

Sequel to Prompt 21, Superstition. Post-MKAT.

* * *

 **Bookmark**

"Okay, I think that's the last of it," says Logan, placing the final cardboard box down on the floor of their new bedroom. "We are finally moved in."

"Yep." Veronica grins up at him from her position on the floor beside the bed, where she's surrounded by boxes that she's in the process of opening and unpacking. "Our own house, can you believe it? We really are adults."

"If you say so," he teases, sinking down on the end of the bed and flopping backwards. "I, for one, still feel like a teenager."

"Says the US Navy fighter pilot." Veronica gives a soft snort. "Which is probably the most adult career you could have."

"Stop that," he dismisses lightly. "You'll scare off the teenager living inside this manly body."

Veronica wrinkles her nose at _that_ mental image. "Okay, don't ever say stuff like that again. It freaks me out."

She finishes emptying the box in front of her and pushes it to one side, rising up on her knees and pulling the next one closer. With Logan's pocket knife, she slices through the tape and pulls open the flaps, frowning when she realises she doesn't recognise its contents.

"This one's yours," she says. "You wanna unpack it yourself?"

He gives a shrug, hands folded across his stomach as he gazes up at the ceiling.

"Nah, I'm tired from all the box-carrying and furniture-moving. Feel free to do it if you want," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "Or I can get to it later."

She's surprised. "You sure? I don't wanna invade your privacy."

He turns his head towards her with a grin. "Veronica, what exactly do you think I have in there?"

"I dunno." She shrugs, looking down at the box. "Didn't want to assume."

"It's fine. You won't find anything incriminating or inappropriate."

"Okay." She opens the box fully and starts unpacking.

Logan's right, it just contains books and a few odd knick-knacks; nothing incriminating. She lifts out a pile of four books, but as she leans over to place them on the bed, they slip from her hand and fall to the floor.

"Shit. Sorry," she apologises, moving to gather them up.

As she does so, a small, square piece of paper falls out of his well-worn copy of 1984. With curiosity, she picks it up, eyes skimming over the list of dates scrawled on it, trying to make sense of them. When she turns it over, she discovers it's not a piece of paper after all; it's a photo. Of her. From high school… the night of Alterna-Prom, to be exact.

"Hey, what's this?" she asks, holding it up for him to see. "It was in one of your books."

"Huh?" Logan props himself up on one elbow as he looks at her in confusion, but then his gaze lands on the photo and his expression clears as he sits up properly. "Oh, that's, uh… it's just a bookmark."

"Really?" Her eyebrows rise. "You've been using my high school prom picture as a bookmark?"

"Uh… yeah?" He looks sheepish as he swings his legs off the bed and comes to sit down beside her.

Veronica looks down at the picture in her hand, before turning it over again and studying the dates on the back, trying to figure out what they mean:  
 _10/03/2008_  
 _04/28/2009_  
 _05/14/2011_  
 _09/30/2011_  
 _10/23/2013_  
 _11/08/2015  
01/05/2016_

Logan reaches over, gently extracting the photo from her fingers and turning it over for a moment to run his thumb over her smiling face.

"Okay, it's a little more than a bookmark," he admits. "This photo was my good luck charm for the last few years. It helped me get through a lot."

"Really?" Veronica's voice catches in her throat as she stares at the photo.

"These dates on the back?" He turns it back over. "They're important dates in my life: the first one is the date I hit rock-bottom and your dad saved me—"

"The anniversary of Lilly's death," Veronica interjects softly.

"Yeah." He nods. "The next is the date I finished rehab, then my Hearst graduation, my graduation from OCS in 2011 and then from flight school in 2013. The second last one is the day I was promoted to Lieutenant, and finally, the day we got back together."

Veronica exhales in shock, feeling like the air has been knocked out of her. "Seriously?"

"Uh huh." He nods. "Veronica, I've carried this photo with me for most of the last ten years. Whenever I felt myself slipping, or I was afraid I couldn't succeed in whatever I was doing at the time, I would look at you in this picture, and it would ground me."

"Wow…"

"When I started flying, it became a ritual to carry it in the pocket of my flight suit, for good luck. It was something of a superstition." He brings his hand to his chest. "I kept it right here, over my heart, so it was like you were keeping me safe."

"Geez, Echolls," Veronica manages, swallowing past the lump in her throat, though she still feels her eyes getting damp in response to the heartfelt confession. "You're killing me here."

"Sorry." He shoots her a sheepish smile.

"So, if you always fly with it, how come it's been in there"—she nods towards the book—"and not with you?"

His smile turns tender."Ah, because I finally retired this one last year. I have a new photo to carry with me now."

He shifts, reaching around and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He flips it open and extracts another small photo, handing it to her.

"Here."

She takes it from him and the tears finally start to fall when she sees it's a photo of the two of them during their two weeks together last January. She's sitting in his lap, her arm around his neck; her eyes are closed and she has a blissful smile on her face as Logan kisses her cheek. The angle tells her it's a selfie; one Logan must have taken when she was unaware.

She smiles through her tears, turning it over to see another set of dates on the back:  
 _01/05/2016_  
 _01/21/2016  
07/22/2016_

"Okay, so the first one's easy: the date we got back together," she says. "The second one must be… uh, the date we said goodbye last year, before you deployed for six months?" Logan nods. "And the third is…?"

"The day we reunited last July," Logan finishes, a slight waver to his voice now, too.

Veronica turns it over again, tracing their faces with her finger before she turns to Logan and twists his shirt around her fingers, tugging him in for a deep kiss.

"I can't believe you," she murmurs when they part.

"Is that a good or bad disbelief?" he asks, looking a little nervous.

"It's a good disbelief," she says tremulously. "I love you."

He relaxes, grinning widely and pulling her back towards him for another kiss. "Love you, too."


	25. Spirit

**Spirit**

Wallace sits beside Veronica on his bed, watching her with concern as she sniffles, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle.

"This is so not an 'I told you so,'" she says, her voice tearful. "But do you see why I kinda keep things to myself?" She reaches up to wipe her eyes, before adding, "I think I can go home now."

"Maybe you should just stay here," Wallace says, shooting her a worried frown.

He's still trying to make sense of everything Veronica's just told him. God, how she's managed to fool him—and everyone else—into thinking she's been fine for the last year escapes him.

"No, I feel better." She shakes her head, then tilts it to one side as she adds, "Of course, you feel worse."

"No, I don't care about me," he says quickly. It's true; he's only had to hear her story... but she's _lived_ it. "I just wish I could do something. Or say something."

"You don't have to say anything," she says with a small, grateful smile. "That's kind of the good part."

Wallace looks down, feeling his chest tighten with both sympathy and worry at the vulnerability in her tone. Veronica Mars has always seemed like this force of nature to him; she's strong and smart and sassy, and doesn't take any shit from anyone. She's probably the strongest person he's ever met… yet, he's still convinced, now more than ever, that his original assessment of her was correct: underneath it all, she really is just a marshmallow.

After all, this is the girl who took a chance on a complete stranger when he was taped to the flagpole, who risked ridicule and backlash for cutting him down; and she's the girl who baked him snickerdoodles and snuck spirit boxes into his locker just because she knew it would mean a lot to him.

She's his best friend. And okay, sometimes she takes advantage of that fact, what with all the favours she requests of him without explaining why, not to mention how she's apparently been giving the absence slips he gave her to Logan Echolls, of all people—and something tells him he's still missing a good chunk of _that_ story—but he's quickly learning that there's a lot more to her than she shows to the outside world. That she keeps her feelings close to her chest for good reason. He just wishes she would understand that he'll be here for her no matter what; that she can talk to him about anything.

Veronica stretches her legs out and leans forward to pull her laptop out of her bag.

"You say I never tell you anything when I ask for favours?" she says, opening the computer.

"Yeah. You so don't need to worry about that right now," he tells her sincerely.

And it's true. As curious as he is to know what she really gets up to and why, after what she's just told him, it really is small potatoes.

"I'm not worried," she admits, giving a sniff before turning the laptop towards him. "Here's everything there is to know."

As she slides the computer onto his lap and he starts to comprehend what she's showing him, he feels this overwhelming urge to throw his arms around her and hug her tightly. She's been through so much, and she obviously struggles to open up and trust anyone because of it, yet here she is, finally opening up to him, actually trusting him with her secrets.

He turns to her and they share a smile, before he murmurs a sincere, "Thank you, Veronica."


	26. Tomorrow

Sequel to Prompt 11, Platform

* * *

 **Tomorrow**

Logan waits anxiously for the jam-packed train to pull into the station. His heart is pounding, his stomach filled with butterflies. He's about to see her again—the love of his life—and he's thrilled and nervous and scared all at the same time.

It has been almost two years since they said their tearful goodbyes on the platform of this very station, and while he's been waiting for this for what seems like forever, he's also very aware that two years is an extremely long time. They've been communicating as often as the shoddy military postal system will allow, but occasional letters from the woman he loves are no substitute for the real thing.

As the train slows, the fluttering in his stomach intensifies. In just a few moments, his life as he knows it will change, not just because he's returning from war, but because there's a very important person he has yet to meet, and he's terrified to do so. He can still remember the myriad of emotions that flooded through him when he received Veronica's letter a few weeks after shipping out. The letter which broke the news that he was going to be a father.

At first, he was angry; angry that she hadn't told him before he left, angry that he wouldn't be there to see his child born. The anger soon dissolved into joy and excitement… but then, the longer he was away, the more frustrated and anxious he became. Because he was missing out on everything. He was missing his son's life.

His son.

He has a son.

Some days, he still has trouble believing it. Despite the fact that Veronica has sent him many detailed letters and a few pictures of the baby, he doesn't think he's going to fully comprehend that he's real until he meets young Thomas in person.

The train finally pulls into the station, screeching to a stop. He can just about make out the crowded platform through one of the windows, but his view is quickly blocked as the officers, soldiers and sailors around him stand and start to scramble for their belongings.

The next couple of minutes as he waits to disembark the train seem the longest of Logan's life, but then all too soon, he's standing on smoky platform, eyes scanning the mass of people, looking for _her_. His beautiful Veronica. His wife.

The longer he strains to see her, though, the more panicked he feels. What if she's not here? What if she's gotten tired of waiting for him and has found someone else? What if he never gets to meet his son?

But then, almost as if he's willed it, the crowd parts and there she is, standing a few feet away, smoke surrounding her like a halo. She looks incredible, clad in a deep green dress which accentuates her gorgeous figure, the curls of her hair flowing over her shoulders, longer than they were last time he saw her. On her hip sits a small, blond toddler who is looking at him curiously. His heart skips a beat as he realises this is his son.

Veronica's eyes lock with his and he sucks in a sharp breath, his feet moving towards his small family of their own accord. His steps are hesitant at first, but then Veronica breaks into a smile and he speeds up, not stopping until there's just a few inches between them.

"Veronica…" Her name falls from his lips in a reverent breath.

"Logan," she murmurs in the same awed tone. "You're home."

"I'm home." He nods.

There's a beat, in which they just stare at each other with wonder, before urgency takes over and he has to touch her. His hand slides to her lower back and he tugs her towards him, lowering his mouth to hers in a desperate kiss. She responds to him eagerly, her own urgency evident in the embrace, but it isn't long before oxygen becomes an issue and he reluctantly pulls away, taking a step back as he tries to regain his composure.

Veronica smiles up at him, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the smartly-dressed toddler perched on her hip.

"Logan, I'd like you to meet your son, Thomas Michael Echolls," she murmurs, her voice trembling slightly. "Thomas, sweetie, this is your father."

Logan swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. "H-hello, Thomas. I'm so glad to finally meet you."

The little boy just stares up at him with wide eyes, before laying his head on Veronica's shoulder and sucking his thumb into his mouth.

"He's a little shy," she explains kindly.

"Can—?" Logan starts, but his voice catches in his throat. "Can I hold him?"

Veronica looks down at the boy again, "Will you give Daddy a hug?"

Thomas looks a little hesitant, but he eventually gives a shy nod. Veronica smiles, carefully passing him over to Logan.

"Hey there, little buddy," he murmurs softly, taking the small child in his arms and pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead. "I'm sorry I've been away for so long, but I'm back now, and I will never leave you again, not if I can help it."

Thomas studies him apprehensively for a long moment, before eventually he reaches up to press his small hand against Logan's cheek. Logan grins, catching Veronica's eye, who smiles up at him with affection.

"Come here," he murmurs, holding out a hand to her. She steps in close and he slips his arm around her waist, tugging her into his side.

"You know, some days, I didn't think I would make it. I thought I'd never see you again," he admits. "But I kept telling myself: 'just make it to tomorrow'… because I'd vowed to you that I would come home. And what do you know? It worked."

"Yes, it did," she agrees. "You came back to me. To us."

He smiles, leaning down to kiss her gently. "Just like I promised I would."


	27. Sparkles

**Sparkles**

Logan's lips twitch and he tries not to laugh as small fingers press against his cheeks, running over his skin. His eyes are closed, having been instructed not to open them, so he can only picture what she might be doing to his face right now. A finger brushes over his bottom lip, smearing some kind of cold substance over it. It tickles and this time he can't hold back his chuckle.

"No laughing, Daddy," his daughter's voice scolds him. "You have to keep still."

"Sorry," he manages through barely-parted lips, as he tries not to move.

He starts to open his eyes, but a warm hand quickly covers them. "No peeking."

"Okay, okay, I won't peek," he relents.

Staying as still as he can, he lets her continue. She applies the cold substance to his top lip next, before passing a small brush over his eyelids and then finally she draws a larger brush over his entire face.

"All done," she says finally. "You can look now."

Logan opens his eyes to find his four-year-old standing before him, a big smile on her face as she holds out a mirror to him.

"Look, Daddy," she says excitedly. "You're all pretty."

Logan leans forward to take the mirror from her and holds it up, his eyebrows rising as he takes in his reflection. He looks ridiculous. His cheeks are streaked with pink blush, his lips smeared with haphazardly applied bright red lipstick and his eyelids are a deep shade of blue. That's not the worst of it, though; no, the worst part is that his entire face is covered in glitter.

"Wow, baby girl," he recovers quickly, giving her an encouraging smile. "It looks great."

"You like it, Daddy? You're all sparkly."

Nodding mutely, Logan studies himself in the mirror, then manages a soft, "Uh, huh. I do. You did an awesome job."

"Yay." Abigail claps her hands together in triumph. "Let's show Mommy."

"Uh, no, I think Mommy's busy right now," says Logan quickly.

"It's okay. We'll go find her."

Before he can stop her, Abi grabs his hand and starts tugging on his arm. With a sigh, Logan stands and lets her pull him down the hallway towards the living room, where Veronica has set up a makeshift office at the dining table so she can work on a couple of cases at home.

"Mommy, look at Daddy's sparkles!" announces Abigail as she tugs him into the living room.

Veronica takes one look at his face, her jaw dropping for a moment, before her eyes twinkle and she starts to laugh.

"Wow, look at you!" she manages between chuckles. "Very attractive."

He scowls, but the joy on her face is contagious and he can't help but grin back at her.

Placing one hand on his hip, he purses his lips and strikes his best model pose. "All right, Ms. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up."


	28. Medication

I started this one about 2 years ago, but never got around to finishing it... until now :).

* * *

 **Medication**

Veronica's heart is pounding, her mind reeling with all the new information she's discovered this evening, as Logan presses his forehead to hers and gives her a tender smile. **"** Come on, I'll drive you home on the back streets."

He lifts his head slightly, waiting for her reaction, and for a moment, Veronica just stares up at him, emotions battling inside her, before she hesitantly returns the smile. His forehead touches hers again and she huffs a small laugh, giving a barely perceptible nod. They do an awkward little dance around each other, before Logan opens the car door and she climbs inside.

As he rounds the front of the car, Veronica turns to glance at the back seat, the memory triggered by his mention of secret notes coming to mind. Lilly and her secret spy pen… which she could well have used to pass notes to Weevil.

"You okay?" Logan's voice breaks her out of the reverie and she turns to see him sitting in the driver's seat.

She nods and he starts the car, pulling it out of the driveway. The drive across town is, well, Veronica's not entirely sure how to describe it… weird… awkward… yet somehow it's actually strangely comfortable.

She's having trouble getting her head around what's happening between her and Logan right now. That kiss at the Camelot the other day seemed to come out of nowhere; she had no idea until that moment that Logan had feelings for her, and if she's honest, she didn't even notice she was developing feelings for him either, until she made the first move and kissed him. She realised her mistake immediately and started to shrug it off as a moment of insanity, but then he grabbed her and kissed her properly, and everything changed.

Except now she doesn't know how to act around him. She's spent the most of the day trying to play it casual and act normal; trying to ignore the way her heart starts racing when she's near him, but then he starts talking about love and moving on, and suddenly he's kissing her again, and well, now her head is a jumble of both confusion and arousal.

And of course, she can't stop thinking about what she just witnessed back at Logan's house either. She's never been Aaron Echolls' biggest fan, has never really bought into his nice-guy, movie-star persona, but seeing him like that—eyes flashing with rage as he furiously whipped Trina's boyfriend with a belt—not only scared her, but it brought to mind Trina's 'cigarette burns and broken noses' comment to Logan a few weeks ago. She hadn't wanted to believe it at the time, but after tonight… God, what kind of home life has Logan really been dealing with all these years?

She looks over to him; he's concentrating on the road, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on his thigh. On a whim, she reaches over and places her hand over his, squeezing it gently.

He glances at her with a soft half-smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She nods. "But I'm not quite ready to go home yet."

"You wanna stop for ice cream?" he offers.

"As tempting as that sounds, I was thinking more of a stop at the beach."

His mouth quirks up. "How about we combine the two? We're not far from Amy's, or the beach."

Twenty minutes later, they find a spot in a familiar area of the beach and sink down onto the sand, ice cream in hand. Silence falls between them as they tuck into the cones, and it's not uncomfortable, exactly, but it is a little weird.

Sure, Veronica's hung out with Logan on this very beach plenty of times in the past, but that was then; back when they were friends, when Lilly was still alive, when the Fab Four still existed. Now, though, there are so many things between them, and they're not friends now, they're… well, who knows, exactly?

"I still like to come out here, sometimes," Logan finally murmurs when he's done with his ice cream. "When I need to get away for a while."

He doesn't say it explicitly, but Veronica can read between the lines: ' _When I need to get away_ from him _for a while'._ It gives her the confidence to broach the subject with him.

"Logan," she starts, "back there… your father…"

He nods, looking out at the ocean. "That bastard deserved what he got for what he did to Trina."

"Yeah," she says. "But your Dad, he was… I mean… does he often get like that?"

Logan's silent for a long moment, as he looks down at his hands before lifting his head to gaze out over the horizon. She's about to take it back when he starts to speak.

"I know you heard what Trina said the other week, at the hotel in L.A."

"Yeah…" she agrees softly.

"It's true." He stares out at the waves. "But you already worked that out, didn't you?"

Veronica can only nod.

"He's been abusive for as long as I can remember," he says, his voice low. "Almost put me in the hospital a few times."

"Logan, God, I…" she starts feeling a lump building in her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. "What about your mom, did she know?"

He gives a snort. "Oh, she knew, all right. She was just too busy drowning it all out with her own method of self-medication to do anything about it."

"God, I'm so sorry…" Veronica can feel the tears forming now, her heart aching for him, for what he's been through.

Logan shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably. "No, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"I don't need your pity, okay?" He turns his head to look at her, his eyes flashing. "I don't need you looking at me like I need fixing."

"No, Logan. I don't… I… that's not what this is." She looks down at her hands, forcing herself not to reach out and touch him like she wants to. She has a feeling he won't appreciate it right now. "Look, I can't even begin to understand what you're going through, but if you ever wanna… I don't know, talk, or something… I'm here, okay?"

He doesn't move for a moment, eyes resolutely fixed forward, but then he nods slowly. He relaxes slightly and Veronica takes the opportunity to reach out, her hand coming to rest over his, their fingers entwining.

"And if you don't wanna talk," she says, "that's okay too. We can just hang out."

He gives another nod, then swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the action. "Okay."

He turns his head, studying her for a moment, his dark gaze intense as he shifts to face her. Lifting his hand, he cups the back of her head gently and leans in, his lips finding hers. He kisses her sweetly, before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers.

"Thank you."

For a second, she wonders if she just imagined the hitch in his voice, but she smiles anyway, giving a small nod. He kisses her one more time, then turns back to look out at the ocean again.


	29. Fright

Sequel to Demonstration and Can't Do This. Thanks goes to Lymelight for the suggestion for this sequel.

* * *

 **Fright**

Unexpectedly roused from sleep, Veronica turns over with an annoyed mumble. She pries her eyes open and glances around the room… she's not at home, and she's not in a bed either. She's curled up on the large couch in Duncan and Logan's suite at the Neptune Grand. For a moment, she can't remember why she's here… or why she's on the couch and not in Duncan's room, but then it all comes back: Logan showing up at her apartment after being attacked by the PCHers, and her driving him back here in the middle of the night.

She looks at her watch; it's almost six-thirty a.m., which means she's only been asleep for a couple of hours. She lifts her head, listening out for any sounds which might explain why she's awake. At first, she hears nothing, but then there's a whimper, followed by a distressed cry. It's coming from Logan's room.

"Shit," she mutters, tugging off the blanket draped across her and crossing the room to his door. She knocks gently. "Logan? Everything okay?"

There's no response, other than another whimper, so she opens the door and steps inside. He's tangled in the sheets, his hair plastered to his forehead as he thrashes in the bed. Despite her better judgement, Veronica approaches the bed and perches on the edge, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinches, and she almost pulls back, but then he seems to relax under her touch.

"It's okay," she murmurs. "You're all right. You're home."

He frowns, then opens his eyes and blinks up at her in confusion. "Veronica? What are you doing here?"

She shrugs. "You were having a nightmare."

"I was?" He looks up to the ceiling, his mouth falling open as he presses a hand to his forehead.

"Yeah." She nods in sympathy. "Must've been some fright they gave you last night."

"Yeah."

Veronica moves to stand, but his other hand shoots out and wraps around her wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the couch."

He shakes his head. "Just sleep here. Bed's plenty big enough."

"I can't." She extracts her wrist from his hand and slides off the bed. "What about Duncan?"

Logan shrugs. "What about him?"

"He's my boyfriend, Logan."

"Maybe, but is he who you really want?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "If you ask me, you deserve much better."

"Oh, yeah, like who?" she responds. "You?"

She regrets it as soon as it's out of her mouth, because truth is, her feelings for him are still very much lingering, and as much as she wishes she didn't, she still wants him.

"Maybe." He rises up on one elbow, his expression almost hopeful. "But certainly not Duncan. You know, Kendall was with him in his room the other day."

Veronica's eyes narrow, refusing to let him see that he's hit a nerve. "I'm not doing this with you, Logan."

He gives a shrug, flopping back down onto the mattress. "Yeah, whatever."

With a disappointed shake of her head, Veronica turns for the door and slips through it, closing it behind her as she lets out a heavy sigh.

"Veronica?"

She jumps, hand coming to her chest, and whips around to find a confused Duncan standing in his bedroom doorway, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Shit, Duncan, you scared me. You're up early."

He steps into the living area of the suite. "What were you doing in Logan's room?"

"Oh, um, he had some trouble with the PCHers last night. I gave him a ride home."

"He did? What happened?"

She glances back at Logan's closed door. "Can we talk in your room?"

"Sure." Duncan gives her a puzzled look, but turns and heads back into his room, leaving her to follow.

Veronica presses her lips together as she enters the room behind him, Logan's words—and his touch—fresh in her mind. She hates to admit it, but he has a point. At first, when she and Duncan got back together, she just wanted to be normal again, to go back to how her life used to be, but lately, she's been questioning whether she's just fooling herself. And of course, having Logan constantly hanging around, with his sarcastic digs and suggestive comments, has only made her question herself—and her relationship with Duncan—even more.

Duncan stops, turning to her with his arms crossed over his chest. "Okay. Spill. What's up with Logan?"

Veronica opens her mouth to explain what happened last night, but then quickly snaps it shut. For one, she doesn't even know if Logan wants anyone else to know, and secondly, it's not really her place to tell Duncan anyway.

"Actually, you know what, you should just ask him. It's his story to tell, not mine."

He looks at her with an irritated frown. "What, so you and Logan are all chummy now? I heard you guys talking here the other night."

"I'm helping him out with his case," Veronica replies, a little puzzled by his reaction. Has he always been this whiny? "He asked me to."

"Yeah, well, maybe he should have asked me first," he mutters.

Veronica's eyes widen in shock. "I'm not your property, Duncan. If I want to help Logan, that's my choice."

"He still has feelings for you, Veronica." Duncan looks annoyed. "Anyone can see it."

"So?" she retorts, even as the kiss they shared earlier in the night comes to mind. "I'm with you, not him."

"I don't trust him."

"He's your best friend."

"He might have been at one time." Duncan pouts. "But then his father murdered my sister, and he stole my girlfriend."

That makes Veronica's blood boil and she advances on him, eyes flashing as she points an angry finger in his direction.

"Okay, for a start, what his father did has nothing to do with Logan, and secondly, he did _not_ steal me from you," she snaps. "You broke up with me, remember? And let's not get started on how you slept with me when a) I was drugged out of my head and b) you thought I was your fucking sister."

"Hey, I was drugged, too," he protests.

"That's not an excuse," she hisses. "You were conscious enough to know what you were doing, to remember it afterwards. You could have stopped it."

Duncan looks at her, hurt evident on his face. "Where is this coming from, Veronica? I thought we worked through this?"

Veronica slowly shakes her head. "So did I, but I can't ignore the truth anymore."

"What are you saying?"

She takes a deep breath, before saying the words that, if she's honest, have been on her mind for a while. "We're over, Duncan."

"What?" His head snaps up in shock. "No, you can't do that."

"I can. And I am."

"Is this because of Logan?"

"No, it's because of _you_ , Duncan," she responds. "And me, and us together. Things just aren't working."

"Yes, they are," he counters, taking a step towards her. She instinctively steps back. "Veronica, I love you."

"You do?" she scoffs. "If you love me so much, then why have you been visiting Meg so often, and what was Kendall doing in your room last week?"

"Veronica, please…"

"No, Duncan." She holds up a hand. "I'm serious. We're done."

He just glares at her, his jaw twitching and his chest heaving with anger, before he lets out a frustrated shout. He spins, knocking the items on the top the dresser to the floor, and then storms out of the room. Veronica follows him, worried for a moment that he's going to confront Logan, but he heads straight for the suite door and stomps out, slamming it behind him.

Veronica can only stare at the door, breathing heavily as she tries to calm down.

"Veronica, everything okay?" comes Logan's voice from her left. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Just Duncan." She tears her eyes from the doorway, shaking her head as she turns and walks past him into his room. "Come on, let's get some sleep."


	30. Trick

Continuation of Bowl, Salt and Trainer. While this is technically set in the Slides of Cosy Lives 'verse, it may not end up being strictly canon within the series, since I haven't finished writing it yet and may end up changing things.

* * *

 **Trick**

 **2036 – Age Forty-Eight**

"Hey, you." Logan slides his arms around Veronica's waist, nuzzling the side of her neck as she chops the vegetables for dinner. "Good day?"

"Hmm." She nods. "It's not over yet, though. I have to go out again this evening. This thing for a client," she tells him. "How was your day?"

"Not bad. Same old." He kisses her neck and she tilts her head to the side in response.

He presses himself closer to her and grins against her neck, when he feels her do the same. She smiles, before turning her head for a kiss, to which he gladly obliges.

"Ugh. Gag," comes a disgusted voice behind them. "No one wants to see that."

They part and Veronica shares a smirk with Logan before extracting herself from him and stepping to the side. She crosses her arms, studying the teenager now rummaging in the fridge.

"And what time do call this, missy?" she asks, arching an eyebrow. "You were supposed to be home right after school."

The sixteen-year-old shrugs, closing the fridge and popping open a can of Skist. "Had some stuff to do."

"What stuff?" asks Veronica.

Their daughter sets her jaw, looking at Veronica with a scowl. "Like you give a shit. You're almost never home anyway."

Veronica's jaw clenches, eyes flaring with anger as she takes a step forward. "Abigail Echolls, watch your language."

"Yeah, whatever." Abi rolls her heavily-lined eyes and turns to leave the room.

"Abi, get back here right now," Veronica calls to her departing form. "I'm not finished."

"Yeah, well I am," Abi's voice drifts down the hall, before the sound of her bedroom door slamming echoes through the house.

Logan sighs, then grunts as Veronica smacks his chest. "What?"

"Thanks for your help there, buddy."

He looks at her, lost. "What did you want me to say?"

"Uh, maybe you could have backed me up instead of just standing there saying nothing."

He shrugs. "You seemed to be handling it fine."

She rolls her eyes, then raises an expectant eyebrow at him.

"Okay, fine," he relents. "I'll go talk to her."

He heads out of the kitchen and down the hall, stopping at Abigail's closed door. He reaches out and knocks gently, before saying, "Abi, it's Dad. Can I come in?"

There's no response, so he says her name one more time and slowly opens the door. Abigail is sprawled across her bed, arms folded over her stomach and headphones covering her ears as she stares up at the ceiling. The can of Skist stands abandoned on the nightstand.

Logan steps into the room and closes the door behind him, then takes a seat on the edge of the bed and looks at his daughter, waiting expectantly for her to take off the headphones. It takes her a few long seconds, but eventually she sighs heavily and reaches up to pull them off.

"What do you want?" she mutters dully.

Logan lets his gaze roam over her for a moment, taking in the long, purple-and-blue-streaked hair, the dark eyeliner and lipstick, and the slogan t-shirt and tight, skinny jeans. She looks so different now than when she was a kid, and as much as he gets that she's growing up and becoming independent, part of him longs for the little girl she used to be.

"I want you to apologise to your mom," he says. "You were rude back there, and she doesn't deserve to be spoken to like that."

"Whatever." She keeps her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"No, not ' _whatever_ '," he says. "The correct response is: ' _Of course, Dad. I'll go and apologise right away'_."

She doesn't respond to that, and makes no move to get up either, and Logan studies her with concern.

"Okay, baby girl, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she mumbles.

"Yeah, okay, now say that with conviction."

She sighs, rolling away from him and sitting up, looking down at her hands. "I said, nothing's wrong."

Logan studies her profile, pretty sure that's not true, but like with Veronica, he knows better than to push, so instead he goes with, "Well, be that as it may, you can't keep treating Mom like you have been lately. Whether you're going through your own shit or not, it's disrespectful."

"Language," says Abigail immediately, a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

"Hey, you're sixteen. I'm sure you've heard and said worse." He shrugs, shifting and nudging her shoulder with his own. "Just don't tell Mom I said that."

She looks over at him then, her expression softening. "Yeah, okay."

"And you _are_ going to apologise to her," he adds, tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine." She nods.

"Thank you." He smiles. "Listen, she's working tonight, so it's just you and me. What do you say to some Daddy-Daughter time? We can watch a movie, pig out on popcorn and ice cream."

Abi turns to him fully now, her smile widening as she nods. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great, but on one condition," he continues, holding one finger up in warning, "you have to apologise to Mom before leaves. None of this avoiding you've been so good at lately."

"Yeah, okay. I'm going."

She gives him a small smile, then slides off the bed and heads for the door. Logan lets her leave, then follows a few feet behind, staying out of sight as she heads back to the kitchen.

* * *

"I believe it's my choice of movie tonight," says Logan a couple of hours later, as he hands Abigail the large bowl of popcorn and then sinks down onto the couch beside her.

"Ugh, Dad, you're not gonna make me watch some weird movie from when you were my age are you?" she asks.

"No," he shoots back quickly. "Better than that: we're gonna watch a movie that came out about twenty years before I was born."

"Seriously?" Abi wrinkles her nose. "I mean, did they even _have_ movies that long ago?"

Logan stares at her incredulously. "Just how old do you think I am?"

Abi just shrugs and shoots him a teasing grin, before shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

"If you must know," Logan continues. "Tonight, my lovely daughter, we're going to watch my favourite movie of all time: Easy Rider."

He announces it with pride, but all he gets is a blank look from his sixteen-year-old.

"Seriously?" he mimics her tone from earlier. "Nothing? Peter Fonda… Dennis Hopper… Jack Nicholson? My God, have you learned nothing in your History of Film class this semester?" She just shrugs again. "Well then, my dear, you are in for a treat."

He starts the movie and they settle in to watch. They only get partway through before Abi starts complaining that it's weird and makes no sense, but Logan insists she keeps watching.

"Come on, Dad," she whines. "Like, what's the point? It's all just motorcycles, drugs and hippies. No thank you."

"It gets better, I promise. Just keep watching."

She does, albeit rather reluctantly, and by the time they get to his favourite part, the freedom speech, he notices she's listening intently. He smiles and then discreetly watches her watching the rest of the movie.

"So? What did you think?" he asks eventually, as the credits roll.

"Will you be upset if I say I don't really know?" she asks hesitantly.

He grins, shaking his head. "No."

"I just…" She tilts her head to the side, looking just like Veronica for a moment. "The ending came out of nowhere, and I don't even get what the point of the whole thing was, let alone why you like it so much."

"Fair enough." Logan nods. "I guess, for me, it represents the kind of freedom that I always longed for when I was a kid."

Abi looks up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I know I haven't really talked much with you about my childhood," he says, "but I'm sure you've heard things about my family."

"Some things," she admits, looking a little sheepish.

"Then I assume you know about the murder trial and how my mom died?" She nods. "But that was only a very small part of the story."

Abi doesn't say anything, just waits for him to continue.

"Look, I didn't exactly grow up in a loving household," he tells her. "To the outside world, I'm sure it appeared as though I had the perfect life: movie star parents, the best things money could buy… but behind the scenes, things were far from perfect." He looks over at her. "My mom was a drunk who was addicted to prescription drugs, and my dad…" He swallows down the emotions that thinking about his father brings. "My dad was an abusive asshole. He beat me; badly and often, and my mom just stood by and let it happen."

Abigail sucks in a sharp breath, looking at him in horror. "God, Dad…"

"I first saw Easy Rider when I was about twelve," he continues, not wanting to dwell on the worst parts of his childhood. "Too young, I'm sure, but I'd had to grow up fast. I'd been stuck in this prison of a Hollywood mansion my whole life, with my father controlling me and everyone around me. I couldn't stop him and I couldn't escape… but suddenly, here was this movie that showed me what it was to be free. To just take off and leave the rest of the world behind me."

Logan stops for a moment, caught up in reliving old childhood feelings and memories.

"All I dreamed of for years was buying a bike and just getting out there on the road; I'd leave California behind and be free. Of my life, of _him_." He turns to Abi, who is looking at him with tears in her eyes and a shocked expression on her face, and smiles, reaching out to touch the tip of her nose. "You, sweetheart, have no idea how incredibly lucky you are to have two parents who love and adore you, who would do _anything_ to keep you safe."

"Yeah…" murmurs Abi giving him a small smile. "I'm beginning to get that."

"Neither your mom or I had great examples of parental figures—your grandpa Keith notwithstanding—and all we've ever wanted for you is to feel loved and wanted and happy." Logan reaches out to cover her hand with his, squeezing gently. "Abs, you have to understand that Mom and I only want the best for you."

"Yeah, I know."

"Look, you know about Lilly Kane, about what happened to her?" he asks, and Abigail nods. "Lilly was the same age as you when she was killed. Only sixteen. She had her whole life ahead of her, and it was cut short unnecessarily."

"Dad, I'm sorry…"

"The thought of anything like that ever happening to you…" Logan stops, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "Abs, neither your mom nor I would ever forgive ourselves if we lost you like that."

He clears his throat, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"So, don't be so hard on us, and especially not on your mom, okay?" he says gently. "She loves you so much, as do I. We both want you to have the freedoms we never got to experience as kids, but we also need to know that you're safe while doing it."

Logan stops for a moment, studying his daughter seriously, making sure she's really listening.

"We don't ask where you're going because we're trying to trick you or catch you out," he continues, "and we don't tell you to be home at a certain time just for the hell of it. We do it because we love you and care about you, and because we know first-hand how cruel and evil this world can be and we don't want to see you become a victim of that evil."

"Yeah, I know. And I get it, I do," Abigail nods soberly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't get me wrong, I remember what it's like to be a teenager," says Logan with a soft smile. "I certainly wasn't a perfect example of well-behaved myself, and neither was your mom. But we're older and wiser now, and we've learned the error of our ways. All we want is for you to be happy and healthy and safe; to be able to create the best opportunities for yourself that you can, and not to make the same kind of mistakes we did."

Abigail's mouth twitches up into a mischievous smile. "What kind of mistakes?"

"Nuh, uh." Logan shakes his head, stifling a grin. "I'm not telling you that."

 _She would call us both hypocrites if she knew what we used to get up to at sixteen._

Abi shrugs, giving him a wry smile. "Well, it was worth a try."

"Come here, baby girl." Logan holds his arm out to her and she snuggles against him. He lowers his chin and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "Mom and I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Logan's heart swells with emotion at her proclamation. Some days he still can't believe he's actually here, with Veronica and Abi, living this life… but he wouldn't trade it for the world.


	31. Treat

Continuation of Demonstration, Can't Do This and Fright. Picks up right after Fright ends. Okay, so I couldn't resist continuing this… which means my original plan for the final prompt got thrown out the window :P.

* * *

 **Treat**

Veronica walks determinedly into Logan's room at the Grand, adrenaline still pumping after her confrontation with Duncan. She hears him close the door behind her, but ignores it in favour of pacing the room. When she winds up in front of Logan again, she finds him watching her in bemusement, his hands placed low on his hips.

"I thought you wanted to sleep?"

She shakes her head. "I'm too wired."

"Veronica, what just happened back there?"

She stops, staring at him for a moment, before she glances toward the door and sighs. "I broke up with him."

"What?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Why?"

"You're seriously asking why?" Veronica gives him an incredulous look. "After the lecture you just gave me about deserving better?"

He shrugs awkwardly. "I didn't want to seem insensitive."

Veronica snorts a laugh at that. "You? Insensitive? Never."

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as he moves past her and sits on the end of the bed. "Yeah, well, sometimes I don't think before I speak."

"That's an understatement."

He gives her a wry half-smile, before turning serious again. "So, what happened?"

"Promise not to get all smug if I tell you the truth?"

"I promise." He nods solemnly, though his eyes still hold a trace of amusement.

"You were right," she admits, and though his smile grows, he doesn't say anything. "I called him out on some things that I should have addressed months ago and I told him I was done. Truth is, we never should have got back together."

"I could've told you that," he mutters, looking down at his hands.

"I wanted to be normal again," Veronica admits, starting to pace again. "After everything… finding out what really happened to Lilly, and the truth about Shelly's party, I just wanted to go back to how things were before. But it was never gonna work; we're not the same people we used to be."

"No," he acknowledges. "None of us are."

She sighs, before coming to a stop in the middle of the room and studying him thoughtfully. His head is bowed and he looks tired. The abrasion on his cheek looks red and raw, and without thinking, she crosses the room and slides her hand under his chin, lifting his jaw so she can take a look at it. Her thumb brushes the side of his face, careful to avoid the wound.

"Does it hurt?" she asks.

He shrugs, avoiding her gaze. Against her better judgement, she brings her free hand up to cup the other side of his face, forcing him to look at her.

"Veronica?" he questions, obviously seeing something in her expression. "What's wr—?"

"Look, what I said last night..." She dives in, finally decides to go for what she really wants. "I was thinking maybe we _can_ do this, after all."

His eyes widen, his mouth falling open in surprise. "You… what?"

"If you want to," she adds quickly.

"But…" He seems lost for words. "I don't understand."

"Honestly? I'm not sure I do, either," she confesses. "But I can't keep pretending anymore."

"Pretending?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

She smiles, shaking her head. "Oh, don't play dumb. You know exactly what I mean."

"With our history?" His lips twitch. "Forgive me if I'm a little scepti—"

He doesn't get to finish, because her mouth covers his and she kisses him like she wanted to last night, like she's been wanting to for weeks. It's feels amazing… and it only proves to her that she's made the right decision; because she's feeling more from just this one kiss with Logan, than she ever felt doing, well, anything with Duncan. And if she's being really honest with herself, she's always been aware of that; she just ignored it in favour of seeking 'normal'.

Logan's hands come to her waist, cradling her hips as he deepens the kiss. His thumbs slide beneath her t-shirt, stroking back and forth along her waist, and the touch sends tingles through her stomach and right down to her core. A small whimper escapes her lips, and in response, Logan's hands move to her lower back, palms flattening against her skin as he pulls her down into his lap.

Veronica straddles him, relishing the feel of his warmth pressed against her, her head tilting to the side as his mouth leaves hers and he starts kissing a trail down her neck. Her breathing is becoming laboured and her hands are cup the back of his head, holding him to her as sparks of pleasure and arousal shoot right through her.

 _This_ is what was missing with Duncan. With him, there were no sparks, there was no desire or anticipation. Sure, being with Duncan was nice, but it was nothing compared to how she feels when she's with Logan.

Her fingers clutch at his hair and he lifts his head, his eyes dark and hooded and his own breathing loud and heavy in the silence of the room. Veronica doesn't say a word, just holds his gaze for a long moment, until something unspoken passes between them and she lets her hands slide down over his chest. Reaching the hem of his t-shirt, he just watches her lustfully as she eases it upwards and over his head, before tilting his chin up in question. She gives a slight nod, allowing him to remove her shirt as well. She's not wearing a bra, having tugged on whatever clothes she had to hand before driving him over here, and Logan sucks in a sharp breath as he sees her in all her naked glory.

"Veronica…" Her name comes out in a garbled mutter.

Veronica smiles, reaching for his hands and placing them over her breasts, before lowering her mouth to his ear.

"A few weeks ago, you offered me a demonstration of how this _should_ be done; I'd like to take you up on that offer."

"Seriously?" His mouth drops open as he blinks in surprise.

"Uh, huh." She nods. "Show me what I've been missing out on."

His eyes lock with hers, and he regards her seriously, even as his thumbs brush the sides of her breasts, the caress making her shiver with anticipation.

"Are you sure?"

"Completely."

His lips twitch for a moment, before he breaks into a grin. "Okay."

He leans in and kisses her again as he runs his fingers across her skin.

When they part, Veronica murmurs, "I seem to remember a promise to make me come so hard I couldn't stop screaming your name."

His smile stretches into a leering grin, as he rocks his hips against her, letting her feel just how much he wants her. "You remember that, huh?"

"How could I forget?" she says silkily. "I spent all that night thinking about it."

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah," she confirms softly, leaning in and brushing his nose with her own, before resting her forehead against his.

"Well, then, Ms. Mars, you are in for a treat."

He dips his head, tongue darting out to taste the hollow of her neck as his hands leave her breasts and slide under her arms, flattening against her back. He kisses and licks his way down over her chest, and Veronica clutches at his hair, head falling back, when he closes his mouth around her nipple.

"God…"

She presses her lower body even closer to his, aching for release. The feel of him hard and ready between her thighs makes her head spin with lust. She needs this. Needs him. Has needed him for months, in fact, but she was too much of a coward to admit it… until now.

Logan lifts his head, looking up at her. The shit-eating grin is gone now, and in its place is a completely different expression… one she hasn't seen from him in months. It's softness, tenderness and longing all in one.

His intense gaze is locked on hers as he closes the gap between them once more and their lips meet in a soft, teasing kiss… one where he barely lets his mouth touch hers before he pulls away, making her chase him for another. She quickly gets frustrated with his evasiveness, and as he pulls back for the third time, she tightens her arms around his neck and tugs him in close, kissing him properly. She seems to catch him off-balance because he falls back against the mattress, pulling her down with him.

Before she can get used to the new position, he's rolling her beneath him and settling himself between her thighs as he kisses his way down over her bare skin. This time he doesn't stop at her chest, but keeps moving lower, his mouth wreaking havoc on her senses as he slides down her body. When he reaches her stomach, he hooks his fingers into her sweatpants and underwear and starts sliding them down. Veronica lifts her hips to help and the next thing she knows, she's completely naked before him and he's staring down at her in awe.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she tries to shy away from his gaze, but he reaches out and holds her steady.

"No, don't." He smiles. "You're beautiful."

Before she can deny the proclamation, he's nudging her knees apart and then his mouth is on her, and it's like nothing she's ever felt before—they hadn't gone this far over the summer, and Duncan never seemed to want to do this for her. As he licks and teases her clit, his fingers caressing her folds before gently sliding into her, she feels this intense pressure building inside her, radiating outward and overtaking her entire body.

"God… yes…" She pants, her breathing coming hard and heavy as Logan works magic with his tongue. Her eyes slide close and her head falls back against the pillows "Fuck… don't stop."

He doesn't. If anything, he increases the intensity, kissing and licking and stroking until her back arches and her legs stiffen, soft mewls escaping her lips as white-hot pleasure shoots through her.

"Oh… fuck… yes…" She clutches at his hair. "Logan!"

He doesn't hesitate, just keeps going as she rides out the orgasm, easing her down slowly as she catches her breath and recovers.

"Oh. My, God," she manages eventually, lying boneless on Logan's bed, her eyes still closed and head thrown back.

Logan shifts, and she disentangles her fingers from his hair as he slides back up her body. She opens her eyes to find him hovering above her, his hair all mussed and his face flushed, and she gives him a satisfied smile.

He grins. "See? Told you I'd have you screaming my name."

"You did," she agrees with a nods. "It was fucking amazing. Please tell me there's more where _that_ came from."

His grin turns almost predatory. "Oh, Veronica, we're just getting started."


End file.
